Of Death and Moonbeams
by Lynzee005
Summary: "I believe I may have gotten my wish—one of them—from the night I was shot: Diane, I made love tonight—three times, in fact—to a beautiful woman for whom I have genuine affection," Cooper spoke as he leaned back in the chair and took another sip from his coffee mug. (Part I of the Moonlight Trilogy) **COMPLETE**
1. Withdrawal

_**A/N: This is part one of a much longer fic I've been writing that shows what I_ _hope__ happened in between the scenes to which we were treated in the series. Wherever possible I have done my absolute best to stay true to canon. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I have enjoyed writing it._

_I would be incredibly remiss if I did not acknowledge the most excellent beta help I received from the Wonder Twins. Their wild encouragement of this story makes it what it is today. Thanks ladies...**_

* * *

_March 8_

COOPER: Diane: it is...approximately 2:10 in the morning. I am returning to the Bookhouse after meeting with Ben Horne regarding Audrey's rescue. She is recuperating, but she's not out of the woods. Not yet. (_Pause; shaky breath_) She survived... _several_ near-lethal injections of heroin over a period of at least two days. How one person can do that to another-let alone one so innocent-is so far beyond my grasp as to render me powerless to reach it. I suppose I should be happy about that. No one should want to face the darkness of that abyss. _(Another long pause) _Diane, I must confess the feeling I had when I carried Audrey out of One Eyed Jack's. It was...powerful. I was so angry-at myself for letting this happen; at _them. (Assertively)_ I was ready to kill anyone who crossed our path. This is how I felt with Caroline, and I can't imagine I'm alone in this; this is how any man must feel when someone he cares about is in harm's way. And yet...(_softly_) Diane, it worries me. I felt myself slipping out of control. And a federal agent must _always_ be in control. _(Pause)_ But when I looked into her eyes, and she into mine, all I wanted to do-my singular purpose for existing on this earth, my _raison d'etre_-was to protect her...defend her...keep her safe. (_Pause; clears his throat_) But that's my private battle; I shouldn't trouble you with it. I will, however, keep you appraised of the situation as the facts become clearer.

* * *

_2:30 am_

Agent Cooper readied himself for the rest of the night, which stretched out before him like the blackest of highways. He removed his long trench coat and folded it neatly over the back of the chair, then did the same with his suit jacket. He undid the very top button of his shirt, then barely loosened the impeccable half-Windsor with the little dimple in the centre that this particular tie called for. With a sweep of his hand, he combed a few loose strands of his dark hair back into place atop his head and took three deep, cleansing breaths with his eyes closed before sinking into the chair next to her bed. With the top of his right kneecap exactly parallel with the Cupid's bow of Audrey's upper lip, Cooper leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together, fingers interlocked, as if in prayer. His eyes lingered on the woefully neglected cuticle of his left thumbnail, and only after one last deep breath did he allow himself the space to glance at the face of the woman on the bed.

The anxiety he'd felt leaving Audrey for the half-hour it took to meet with Ben at the hotel was overwhelming. At every turn, Cooper had fought to keep his mind on the task at hand and away from the girl he was letting out of his sight after silently promising himself that he would never again. But now that his errands were done, he could relax - as it were - with the knowledge that she was okay, there, sleeping beside him, while he kept vigil.

Audrey drifted in and out of consciousness, talking about prayers most of the time she was awake and moaning incoherently when she was asleep. She stayed curled on her side, facing away from the door, her knees drawn up to her chest, one hand under her pillow and the other clutching at the bedsheets.

Cooper just sat next to her bed. When Audrey awoke with a runny nose and a terrible sweating fever, begging for release from the hell of withdrawal, Cooper was the one who cooled her face with ice water and a washcloth and spoke soothing words in a voice normally reserved for small children. When Audrey woke up crying, his was the hand she held onto.

And now, Cooper sat on the edge of his seat, his hands pressed together, waiting for a sign from Audrey that the worst of it was over.

"Agent Cooper... ."

His eyes snapped to her face and he leaned over. She lifted three fingers, labouring to reach him. He met her halfway, taking her hand in his as gently as if she were made of spun sugar.

"Audrey," he half-whispered, half-sighed.

She blinked twice; Cooper noticed a teardrop gathering in the corner of her eye. He squeezed her hand, and when she blinked a third time, the tear spilled over. "I'm sorry," she whispered finally.

"You don't have to apologize," he said, bringing his other hand to hers and stroking her fingers with his thumb.

Audrey laboured to roll over onto her back. Her eyes were glazed, her forehead damp, her lips dry and cracked. She seemed to notice him noticing that fact, and tried in vain to separate her lips and wet them with her tongue.

Cooper rested her arm on the bed and reached over to the bedside table to grab an ice cube, from the washcloth bowl. "Here," he whispered, gripping it between his thumb and forefinger as he lowered it to her lips. "You shouldn't drink too much..."

He slowly traced the outline of her lower lip with the cube, letting the ice water melt against her skin and gather in the crease where her lips met. She parted them, let the water roll back inside her mouth a little at a time, patiently, opening her eyes to look at him when she could, and letting fatigue close her eyes for her when she couldn't. As the last of the ice melted away, Cooper let his cold fingertips linger against Audrey's lower lip, brushing away a bead of water that was threatening to course down over her chin. She slipped the tip of her tongue between newly moistened lips, attempting to catch the same drop, and barely touched the cool fingernail of Cooper's left ring finger.

Audrey blushed, barely, and seemed embarrassed as she pulled her tongue back within her mouth. "Thank you," she mouthed, then cleared her throat to speak the words more audibly.

"You're welcome." Cooper's voice caught in his throat, too. He cleared it and lifted his hand away. Looking down at her, her wide eyes watching him, so full of relief, Cooper felt his insides twist. He wanted to hold her, let her cry against him and wail and rant and beat his chest because he deserved it for getting her into this mess.

"When I was there..." she began, her voice sticking, "I didn't think...I didn't..."

"Shhh, Audrey," Cooper said, lifting his hand to smooth back her damp tresses from her forehead, knowing what she was going to say without her having to say it. He lifted her hair from her skin and barely let his fingers comb through it as he set the strands back where they belonged. "We were looking for you. We were going to find you."

"I know," she seemed relieved. "I saw you, at the Blackjack table...and I thought you knew..."

Once again, that familiar pang of guilt hit him just below his solar plexus; he felt it getting harder to breathe. "Audrey, if I'd known, I would have—"

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"But you came for me. You saved me," she half-whispered, resting a hand on his thigh. "That's all that matters now."

Cooper allowed her to grasp his hand in hers as a wave of spasms rocked her calf muscles. Quick to respond, he massaged the tension away, first in her left leg and then in her right. She had been suffering from the muscle contractions all night as a result of her withdrawal. This time, he could feel the tightness, cast-iron firm, beneath his fingertips. Kneading her leg was like trying to massage a sack of rocks. She gripped the sheets as sweat beaded on her upper lip and she moaned and writhed in pain.

"Audrey," he said, "Audrey, stay with me."

As she groaned, and he noticed her eyes rolling back in her head, he had to think fast. While it might have been a good thing to let her escape the pain, losing consciousness was not something he wanted to actively promote. He dug his thumbs into the muscle. "Audrey, what is your favourite Christmas carol?"

"Mmm," she moaned, wincing in pain. She breathed quickly, gritting her teeth. "'Carol of the Bells.'"

He pressed his fingertips into her calf. "Breathe, honey. Deep breaths," he soothed, flexing his fingers and running them up and down her calf to knead the knots. "I like 'White Christmas,'" he said. "From the movie. It was one of my mother's favourites."

"Which?" she asked through gritted teeth. "The movie or the song?"

He smiled. "Both, actually."

Carefully smoothing his hands up and down the length of her leg, alternating between hard pressure and soft, he watched Audrey's body relax, her tears were replaced by the softest whimpers, then nothing. Her breathing slowed, and he knew she was almost asleep.

Cooper felt so tired himself, but he couldn't rest. He stroked her leg, willing the cramps to stop, counting down the hours since (what he assumed was) her last injection and trying to mentally calculate when the withdrawal symptoms would cease. He closed his eyes for a moment, working his fingertips into the fleshy muscles on the back of Audrey's right leg. His mind wandered as his hands slowed down over her skin. He thought about the heroin in her veins and envied it for getting to be so close to her. For the briefest moment, he imagined what it would be like to feel her leg against his, her hands on his body, her lips against... .

"Agent Cooper?"

He blinked, his eyes flying open, and his face colouring with the barest hint of a blush. "Yes?"

"I'm afraid to close my eyes... ."

He softened his gaze and lifted his hand away from her calf, letting it rest on top of hers again. "Audrey, you're safe here," he said. "Deputy Hawk is at the door. Sheriff Truman is a phone call away," he squeezed her fingers gently, "And I'm here. I'll stay right here with you."

"All night?"

Cooper nodded. "All night."

She visibly relaxed, her taut neck muscles loosening and her head resting back even more deeply in the down pillow beneath her. For a moment, her eyes closed, and Cooper thought he saw her smile.


	2. A Father's Prerogative

_10:00 am_

Ben continued to talk as he walked towards the door, expecting that Audrey and Cooper would follow shortly. But they remained silent, unsure about what move they should make. Cooper had to admit to himself that he didn't want to see her go, even if it was with her father; Audrey clearly didn't want to leave either.

Cooper opened his mouth to speak, but his words were cut off by an exclamation from Ben down at the other end of the room.

"...Oh, Agent Cooper, about that doctor's examination," he turned around, heading back their way. "Doc Hayward, I suppose, could look her over?"

"It's standard procedure," Cooper remarked. He glanced at Audrey, who looked horrified. He wished he could backpedal, but he knew to do so would be wrong and unsafe: she needed to be examined, for myriad reasons. Instead, he smiled out of the corner of his mouth and nodded once, saying for her sake as much as anyone else's: "Nothing special about it. It's just to make sure... ."

Ben picked up where Cooper trailed off. "Yes, yes exactly. Make sure she's hasn't been...that she's not...," he trailed off, grinning sheepishly. "Well, you know..."

Audrey averted her eyes and monotonously and obsessively straightened out the cuff of her pink sweater. Ben continued to talk, mostly nonsense. Cooper tried to split his attention. And then Audrey lifted her eyes and met his gaze, holding him there, consuming him. She blinked, and he was certain there were tears on her lashes.

He couldn't ignore her, but her meaning was indistinct, enigmatic. He longed to unpack it.

"Ben?" Cooper interrupted, buying time. "May I speak with you? Outside?"

Ben nodded briskly, planted his hand on Audrey's shoulder to give her a squeeze intended to reassure, and led the way out of the Bookhouse toward the car.

Mr. Horne turned around the bright sunlight and smiled. "Agent Cooper, thank you so much for your willingness to cooperate," he pointed a thick finger at Cooper and grinned even wider. "I underestimated you."

Cooper looked at the ground beneath his shoes and put his hands in his pockets. "Mr. Horne, I believe I may have been hasty in releasing Audrey from protective custody."

Ben seemed perturbed. He mashed his lips together and shifted his weight from one foot to the other as Cooper continued.

"I think Doctor Hayward should examine her first, before she goes anywhere," Cooper said. "This was an unorthodox investigation. The less attention we bring to it, the better."

Ben nodded, but seemed confused. "Of course, of course."

"She needs to give a statement, as well."

Ben stopped dead in his tracks. "A statement?"

"For the record. The crime may have occurred out of our jurisdiction, but it is a crime nonetheless and all proper documentation must be retained for the Canadian authorities. In the event of a trial—"

Ben cut him off, clucking his tongue as he looked up at the sun in the sky and squinted against the glare. "Do you mind telling me why this can't be done in the comfort of her own home?"

Cooper nodded, pausing to collect his thoughts, and followed his hunch. "Sir, with all due respect, I don't believe Audrey wishes to go home just yet."

Ben bristled; gritting his teeth together, he chuckled slightly. "What are you saying, exactly?"

Cooper was grasping at straws; he was interpreting signs and he knew he could be wrong. But he continued anyway. "Oftentimes, victims of kidnapping or other forms of violence, whether physical, sexual, or emotional, do not feel comfortable in their own homes immediately after their ordeal is over. They need a...buffer, if you will."

Ben scoffed. "And just where, pray tell, might she stay in the meantime? Where would she feel '_safe_'?"

"There are numerous options," Cooper suggested, pleased that Ben seemed to be going along. "She could stay here. We could arrange a private room at Calhoun Memorial. There are rooms at the Great Northern she could stay in. Heroin is a dangerous drug and though she's through the worst of it, I believe..."

"You believe?" Ben Horne pointed an accusing finger at Cooper. "You believe? What _do_ you believe, Agent Cooper? What do you think you'll find when you talk to my darling daughter?"

Cooper shoved his hands even deeper into his pockets. He had his suspicions, but he didn't dare voice them aloud. "I'm not sure, Mr. Horne. But it's my job to make sure that she's being taken care of now, that she's healthy, that she feels—and is—secure. And I do not believe being at home makes her feel any of those things. As a member of the Bureau and a representative of a national law enforcement team, it is my duty to—"

"Your _duty_?" Ben once again shifted his weight. "What about my duty, to my family, to my little girl?" He narrowed his eyes at Cooper and waited for a reply.

"I understand your reticence, Mr. Horne, but the fact remains—"

"Agent Cooper, what is it you really want with Audrey? Hmm?"

He pulled a long cigar out of his breast pocket and bit off the end, spitting it to the ground between the two of them. It bounced off the gleaming toe of Cooper's shoe, and he watched as it rolled to a stop next to a large flat stone a few inches away.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

Ben just laughed. "You know what, Agent Cooper? Keep Audrey as long as you want."

Cooper was not expecting cooperation in the slightest, but he knew for a fact that what Ben was offering was far from it. "I'll release her after we've had a chance to speak to her, after her physical examination, and when she decides she's ready to be at home again," Cooper said, eager to end the uncomfortable exchange.

"Yes, well...," Ben seethed, lighting the cigar and inhaling deeply.

"You might send some new clothes for Audrey to this location," Cooper said, knowing that he was pressing his luck but steamrolling ahead in an effort to assert control. He cleared his throat. "She told me she's been wearing the same clothes for days. I'll have them sent to wherever she chooses to recuperate."

"You do that," Ben replied, barely concealing his own anger, before blowing a cloud of smoke in Cooper's general direction.

"Thank you."

Ben muttered something under his breath as he turned quickly and strode off to his car, idling near the entrance to the parking lot. His driver opened the door for him, but Ben was the one who slammed it shut.

Cooper watched until the car disappeared down the road before heading back inside through the door Hawk held open for him. Hands still firmly entrenched in his pockets, he strode down the narrow aisle towards Audrey's bed. She sat there, her hands in her lap, fingering the hem of her skirt. When she looked up, her breath caught in her throat and she blinked, sitting up straight and putting on a face of courage; a convincing mask, Cooper thought, but a mask nonetheless.

"Where's my father?" she asked.

"Heading back to the Great Northern, I suppose," Cooper said, taking a seat across from her once more. "I talked him into letting you recuperate where you want to."

Audrey's lower lip trembled and she took a shuddering breath, her shoulders sagging as the news hit her. "How did you know I didn't want to go home?"

Cooper was instantly relieved by the realization that he'd guessed her feelings correctly. With dip of his head, he managed a small smile. "Call it a hunch."

"So I can stay here?"

"If that's what you want."

She nodded and continued to bite down on her lip. "What if I...," she started, shaking her head as the words left her mouth. Then, she tried again. "What if I stayed with you?" She looked up at him and, anticipating his response, began talking again. "I promise I'd be good. I don't snore. I'll clean up after myself."

Cooper looked down at his hands and then back up at her. "I don't know if that would be wise."

She nodded again and did not meet his gaze.

There were so many reasons to keep his distance; and yet, sitting close enough to her that he could feel the heat of her radiating through her clothes, he couldn't think of a single one.

"We need a statement from you," he looked down at his hands again. "We need to know what happened to you while you were at One-Eyed Jack's."

She nodded. "Of course."

"And the doctor's examination... ."

Her embarrassment was evident. "Agent Cooper-."

"Audrey, I know it's unpleasant to think about, but you were heavily drugged and sedated for much of the last week. Your captors were not doctors; they almost certainly did not take the care to protect you from unsanitary conditions. There is no guarantee... ."

Audrey closed her eyes and sat for a moment in silence. Then she squeezed her hands into fists at her sides, bunching up the bedsheets between her fingers and holding the pose for a moment before relaxing. "I wish I'd never gone up there... ."

Cooper barely hesitated, his stomach pitted and sinking into his shoes as he recognized the same sentiment sitting in the hollow behind his ribcage. "So do I, Audrey."

She looked up at him. "I did it for you."

He smiled sadly, "I know."

She breathed in deeply and let it out; Cooper felt the air rush past his hands, causing goosebumps to stick up from his skin.

"I'll give you any statement you need, and I'll let Doc Hayward examine me," she nodded. "But I want to stay as close to you as possible, at least until this is all over."

Cooper nodded slowly, willing to accept the negotiation. She could stay in a room close by, on the same floor; perhaps even next door or across the hall from him. There would be at least two doors—his and hers—between them no matter where she stayed. Two doors. Not so many that Audrey would feel abandoned, but enough...just enough...

_I can resist_, he thought to himself. _I've done it before; I can do it again_.


	3. Statements

_Later that day..._

COOPER: Diane, what follows is the taped statement of Audrey Horne. Please transcribe this in full for the file, as per usual. (_Clears throat_) It is Wednesday, March eighth. The time is 4:36pm. We are sitting in Miss Horne's room, number 314, at the Great Northern hotel in Twin Peaks, Washington. (_Pause_) Miss Horne, how are you feeling today?

AUDREY: Fine, thank you. (_A weak laugh_) Much better than I was feeling at this point yesterday.

COOPER: That is good to hear. (_Pause_) Can you tell me how it was that you came to be at One-Eyed Jack's?

AUDREY: I went up there to see what I could find out about the connection between Ronette and Laura.

COOPER: What made you suspect that there was a connection?

AUDREY: They both worked for my father, at the perfume counter of his store. You told me that. (_Pause_) I don't know. Obviously I'm not very good at this stuff.

COOPER: What happened once you arrived?

AUDREY: I pretended to have been invited there by Battis, got myself in Blackie's good graces.

COOPER: Blackie?

AUDREY: Yeah. Black Rose. She manages the brothel. (_Clears her throat_) She saw through me at first and I thought I'd be up the creek, you know, but I won her over...she put me to work right away.

COOPER: What do you mean, 'she put you to work'?

AUDREY: (_Pause_) Well, I had to earn my stripes, you know, and so I started with smaller jobs, stuff that would help me to prove myself. I never had any intention of becoming one of the ladies, you know, who show the men around...the hospitality girls...but I figured I could do odd jobs, get in good with the others, find out what they knew. Then I was just going to leave.

COOPER: It would have been easy to leave?

AUDREY: Yeah. I mean, they didn't watch us all the time, and it's not like we were locked up or anything. I suppose I could have just left whenever I wanted. Just walk out the door. I assumed I'd have help. (_Pause_) I left that note for you, under your door. I don't know what I was expecting, but... (_Pause_) But I wasn't thinking about that too much. Not at this point. I was starting to find some interesting things…(_trails off)_

COOPER: Like what?

AUDREY: Well, the day I realized that Battis—that's Emory Battis, from the department store—that he was there, too... well, I found him, and we had a…little chat. He knew it was me. He saw me. (_Pause_) I guess that's what blew my cover. But I didn't know it at the time. I was just too proud of myself for getting that information. (_Pause_) Too stupid, really. But I thought I'd done a good thing. The night I called you, I was going to leave as soon as I hung up. (_Long pause_)

COOPER: Audrey... what happened that night?

AUDREY: (_sniffles_) I didn't know but they must have come in the room when I was talking because I didn't hear them...they hung up the phone on me. I thought the line just went dead.

COOPER: (_softly_) So did I.

AUDREY: I was scared. And then I saw who it was... (_Long pause_)

COOPER: What happened next, Audrey?

AUDREY: (_audible sigh; more sniffles; voice cloudy, emotional_) I made a break for the door, but Emory grabbed me before I could make it. I think I was crying, because Blackie kept telling me I was being a baby and what would 'daddy dearest' think of me now... (_Pause_)... that's when they got the idea about the ransom. They dragged me to another room, I don't remember which one. Blackie's office maybe. Emory tied me down to the chair...they started videotaping me...(_soft crying_)

COOPER: It's all right, Audrey.

AUDREY: I suppose you saw it, huh? The video?

COOPER: (_Pause_) Yes, I did.

AUDREY: (_whimpers_) Oh, it's so humiliating...

COOPER: Audrey, it's okay. We won't talk about that now if you don't want to. Is that okay?

(_More sniffling; rustling; a sigh_)

COOPER: What happened next?

AUDREY: (_sniffling_) I don't really remember. They injected me with something. It hurt, I know that. I suppose I bled a lot. Emory was screaming about his suit needing drycleaning or something. I must have blacked out then because I don't remember much else until...

COOPER: Until when?

AUDREY: When I woke up, there was somebody else with me. I was tied up on a bed. He gave me sweets. Hard candies. (_Pause_)

COOPER: Try to remember what you can.

AUDREY: They must have kept me so drugged that they weren't worried about me escaping, because for a long time they just tied one of my ankles to the bed. But then Emory started tying my hands...(_Pause_)...he hit me, I remember that. The other man...he had an accent, I think...he shot Emory when he found out…

COOPER: The man with the accent—do you recall anything more about him? Where he might be from?

(_Inaudible dialogue in the background. Tape recorder clicks off_)


	4. Relaxing Protocol

_One half-hour later_

Doc Hayward stepped out of Audrey's room at the Great Northern and met Cooper, leaning against the wall outside his own room across the hall from hers. Cooper stood up fully and nodded. Hayward inclined his head, motioning to Cooper's room. Cooper understood; he pushed the door open wide and waited for the doctor to enter. Once there, he closed the door with a barely audible click.

"Well Doc?" Cooper started.

Hayward nodded and scratched the back of his neck. His face was long, drawn, older than it ought to have been; everyone, it seemed, had aged unnaturally in the last few weeks, though Cooper would not have expected anything else from the denizens of such an idyllic place rocked by such unimaginable horror.

"She's doing surprisingly well, considering," Hayward began. "Her blood pressure is within normal limits. Her mental faculties—reflexes, intelligence—are all present and accounted for," he looked up at Cooper. "She has been injured...some muscle tenderness in her shoulders and legs. She can't give me detail—she doesn't remember much."

"She had quite a few muscle contractions last night. I suspected it was from the withdrawal."

Hayward _hmm'd_ and stared at the floor. "Her wrists are sore, too, as you might well imagine. I've put dressings on the skin to cover the abrasions. She probably won't need them for too long."

Cooper nodded and leaned against the wall beside the bathroom and breathed in and out; the feeling—_if you can imagine the impact on your chest of three bowling balls dropped from the height of about nine feet, you might begin to approximate the sensation_, Cooper repeated his own words to himself—spread outward and upward, pressing the air out of his lungs and making him feel lightheaded.

"Was she raped?"

Hayward shook his head. "All signs point to no, thank God. Whatever their reasons for holding her, it doesn't appear to be about _that_."

Cooper exhaled deeply, and Hayward _hmm'd_ again indulging in the long pause.

Finally, he lifted his bag off the bed and stood to face Cooper. "I wouldn't press her too hard for details. She might be in good shape physically, but mentally...emotionally..."

"Taxing her is the last thing I'd want to do," Cooper replied softly. Hayward smiled and made his way to the door, which Cooper opened and followed him through on his way to debrief with Audrey.

He found her sitting cross-legged on the bed, a blanket over her knees, combing her hair with her fingers. She was wearing the same clothes as she had on before, staring off into space across the room.

"Audrey?" Cooper called out, knocking on the wall to announce his entrance.

She looked up and smiled faintly, "Agent Cooper."

"How are you feeling?" he asked. He watched her play with a lock of hair, twisting it around her fingers and letting it fall in a curl against her neck. His stomach knotted around itself, but he smiled in spite. She moved over on the bed, careful to keep her legs covered by the quilt, and made room for Cooper to sit down.

"Better," she said. "Is Doctor Hayward gone?"

"Yes. He just left." He walked over and joined her on the edge of the bed.

"Did he... say anything to you?"

Cooper nodded. "Just that you're well on your way to a full recovery, but that you still need lots of rest."

Audrey smiled. "You know, I've lived in this hotel my whole life, and I don't think I've ever been truly relaxed in any of its rooms before."

"There's always time to start."

"That's right."

Cooper held her gaze for a moment before looking away. "Audrey, I don't mean to pry, but... ."

"You want to finish our session?"

"Well, yes, eventually," he cleared his throat. "What I mean is... it's important for any friendship to begin on a note of honesty and free and open dialogue. I want you to know that I have been completely truthful with you and intend on continuing down that path. I hope you feel that you can trust me, too."

Audrey smiled and examined her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. "Do you know why I like you, Special Agent Dale Cooper?"

Cooper smiled, liking the way his name sounded in her mouth. "I'll bite. Why?"

She looked up at him with a gaze that pierced him through the heart and to his very core. It took him aback; he blinked twice and braced his hands on his knees to steady himself.

"I've never known a man who could be so strong and yet speak so gently before," she said. Her lip trembled. "No one has ever talked to me the way you have."

"No one?" Cooper croaked out.

"Not a single person," she sighed.

"Well," he started, but had no idea how to finish, so he left the word hanging—he imagined—within a comic book speech bubble a foot away from his head. He had suspected as much, that Audrey was neglected emotionally, and as much as he wanted to avoid the wrong impression, out of habit he had been a gentleman towards her. Always. Looking back over his time in Twin Peaks, he decided quickly that, were he able to do it over again, he wouldn't change a thing.

"Did you want to finish talking now?" she asked him.

Cooper broke his silent stare and looked up at her. He blinked and shook his head slightly. "No, let's wait until tomorrow."

"Okay," she said.

Cooper turned away from Audrey for a moment, staring at the wall in front of him

"Tell me, Audrey. What's your favourite food?"

She smiled. "Are we playing a game again or are you asking?"

Cooper turned to face her and leaned on the footboard of the bed. "A little of both."

She closed her eyes. "I've always had a soft spot for big, greasy burgers."

"Hmm," Cooper pointed a finger at her, "I figured it would be burgers, too."

Suddenly, as if on cue, her stomach erupted in a rumble, making her laugh, albeit weakly. "I haven't really felt like eating anything all day. Not until just now."

Cooper stood up straight and smiled. "Well, then I'd like to ask you if you'd care to join me for dinner."

Audrey looked up at him, shocked. "You mean... eating? Together?"

Bemused, Cooper just smiled and looked down at his hands. "That's typically what is implied when one uses the words 'join me' in the extending of a dinner invitation to another."

"But...," she shook her head, "Do you mean... like... a date?"

Cooper felt his face flush a little and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Well... a _friendly_ date. Sure."

She smiled, nodded, and looked away for a beat. "Okay."

"Tell you what," Cooper leaned over to rest one hand on the bed post, "I've been on my fair share of 'dates', and I know how women can be. I'll give you an hour to get ready. Think you can handle that?"

She grinned—_God, how I missed that smile!_ he thought to himself—and nodded.

"Good," he stood up to his full height and pulled his suit jacket down to fix the bunching around his shoulders. "I'll even let you decide where you want to go. All I ask is that you select someplace with excellent coffee and a wide selection of delicious desserts. Preferably of the pie variety."

She pretended to salute him and nodded briskly. Cooper felt his legs turn to jelly.

"I won't let you down, Agent Cooper."

"Audrey," he smiled, "Let's relax protocol for tonight. We're friends, after all. And my friends usually call me Dale."

"Okay," she beamed back at him. "I'll see you in an hour. _Dale_."

"In an hour," he repeated, locking eyes with her as he stepped away from the bed and walked back around to the door.

When he was out of sight and safely hidden within the confines of his own hotel room, Cooper let out a breath he'd forgotten he was holding in and tried every trick in the book to calm his racing heart and dry his sweaty palms.


	5. Storytelling

Three hours, two greasy burgers, a large plate of fries, and several cups of coffee later, Cooper tried to remember at what point during the evening he had ceased to see Audrey as a misguided girl and began seeing her as something more. Someone for whom he had begun to feel genuine affection.

He surmised quite quickly that it was somewhere between her sleepy question to him as they drove out on highway 21 towards the diner she'd chosen—the way she'd turned to him, eyes heavily lidded and fringed by impossibly long lashes, and seemed to purr "Agent Cooper, what's _your _favourite food?"—and their arrival at the diner, twenty minutes and what seemed like a hundred questions later. He learned even more about her: that her favourite colour was pink, that she had never been to Europe, that she always wanted to be a dancer, that she'd read _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland _over fifty times, that she had been told on more than one occasion that she made the best French press coffee in the county, that she wished she could play the guitar. And he was surprised by the sophistication of her questions for him, about philosophy and travel and obscure film trivia. What had started as a practical way to keep her from falling unconscious on the night of her rescue had become a diverting and entertaining game; Cooper, in spite of his professionalism, found himself on the verge of deep belly laughter more than once over the course of the evening.

Now, having exhausted so many avenues of inquiry into one anothers' lives, they drove silently along the darkening highway. To the west, the sky glowed with the after-effects of a brilliant sunset. It might have been mid-March, but a chill in the air caused Audrey to shiver and Cooper to turn the heat up in the car, despite the fact that he was very quickly becoming too warm himself. He focused his eyes on the road, watching for wildlife, afraid of the dreamy feeling washing over him from the warmth and the monotony of the road and the comfort of Audrey's company. He twisted his fingers around the steering wheel, hands at ten-and-two, and blinked his eyes a few times. Audrey now sat silently in the passenger seat, looking out the window at the pale blue sky and the stars beginning to peek out between the tops of the trees.

"Where were you born?" Audrey's voice broke through the silence in the car.

Cooper shifted in his seat. "Philadelphia," he said. "I thought you already asked that."

"Just checking" she said slyly, picking at a fingernail. "Did you go to college?"

"Haverford."

Audrey smiled; Cooper could hear it in her voice, without even needing to look over at her. "I had a cousin who went to Bryn Mawr," she revealed. "She had lots of stories about Haverford boys..."

"Did she?" Cooper shifted, once again, and concentrated on the road. He was smiling in spite of himself.

Audrey "_Mm-hmm'd_" and settled back against the seat. "Do you have parents?"

Cooper grinned. "Everyone has parents, Audrey."

"Well what I mean is...do you see them? Are they still around?"

"I'm pretty sure the rules of the game state that I get to ask a question at some point in this round," Cooper twisted his hands again and pretended to be engrossed in checking the mileage on his odometer, before answering. "My father is still around, though I haven't spoken to him in a while."

"Why not?" she looked at him.

"It's a long story."

"We've got time."

Cooper mentally calculated the approximate time it would take to arrive at the Great Northern and put it at about fifteen minutes. He shook his head. "I'd never finish it before we got to the hotel."

"Who said stories have to end at a destination?" she asked, quickly shrugging and dismissing her own question. "We could turn the car around and make a break for the border. Head to B.C., Alberta, the Yukon, Baffin Island, the North Pole even!" she sighed, her voice taking on a dreamy quality he'd never heard before. "We could just drive and drive until the story is done."

Cooper felt himself resisting the urge to take her up on the wild suggestion, make a break for the British Columbia border, fly through Crowsnest Pass and then...it didn't matter. Maybe they'd push east, across the prairies, stopping at all the places he'd visited on his vacation the summer before. He'd show her the Rockies at twilight and what an ocean of wheat looks like against a too-blue prairie sky and he'd buy her a piece of strawberry mousse pie at the Florida Cafe in Flin Flon and take her fishing in Lake Winnipeg and eventually they'd dip into Pennsylvania and he'd introduce her to his father and then he wouldn't need to tell her the story at all because she'd understand, instantly, that's how crazy his father is and how smart Audrey is and...

He cut off his thoughts mid-stream and cleared his throat to remove the emotion building up there. "I'm glad to see you're feeling more like yourself, Audrey," Cooper smirked.

The moment had been broken. Audrey nodded and looked back out the windshield. "What about your mother?"

Cooper nodded but stayed silent for a long while. "She died," he said finally. "Many years ago."

Audrey snapped her head to look at him, and then turned her attention away again to the road. "I'm sorry."

"It wasn't _your_ fault," Cooper smiled sadly.

"Yes... I-I mean, no... but..." Audrey silenced herself and continued to chew on her fingernail. Cooper watched her fidget in her seat. He wrung his hands twice around the wheel.

"I think about her a lot," he offered, hoping to ease her discomfort and break the tense silence that had settled over them. "She was a beautiful woman, Audrey. Very in tune with a lot of things. I learned a lot from her."

"Do you miss her?"

Cooper thought the answer to be obvious, but he blinked slowly and found himself replying. "More than ever."

A long silence followed, and Audrey sighed, finally breaking the spell. "I guess that's one thing we have in common."

"Feeling close to our mothers?" Cooper queried.

"Missing them," was her subtle correction.

Cooper furrowed his brow. "I've met your mother, Audrey. She lives under the same roof as you do."

"Yes, but...she's not _really_ here, you know?"

And Cooper understood all too well what she meant, realized that the conversation had stalled again, and that perhaps there was no point in trying to revive it. Not now. Instead, he smiled. "Well, here's another thing we have in common—we both like coffee."

Audrey smiled. "Yes, that's true. However," she chuckled to herself, "I can't bring myself to drink it black. I tried! But I just can't do it."

"Ah!" Cooper smiled, letting a small laugh escape his lips. "Well, to each his—or her—own."

"Yes, I suppose," Audrey grew silent, and she looked out the window again as they crested a mountain pass high enough for them both to see the full extent of the lingering sunset between the twin peaks that had named the town below.

"Audrey, is everything all right?"

"Yes, of course," she said, settling back into the seat. "Agent Cooper?"

He almost told her to call him Dale, just so he could hear her lips and her tongue forming the word again. But he caught himself and turned the statement into a cough, a throat clearing in advance of his reply: "Yes Audrey?"

"Would you tell me a story anyway? Even if it's not about your father?"

"What kind of story?" he asked.

"Any story. One you like. A fairy tale. A true story. Tell me about college or tell me about Red Riding Hood. I don't care." She settled back into the seat and sighed. "It's either that or I start singing, and I'm sure you don't want that!"

"I don't know. I don't have many good stories."

"I'm sure you do. Everybody does. We just don't know that we do until we tell them."

Cooper smiled and blinked slowly, twice, before taking a deep breath in as he ran through his catalogue of stories. For a brief moment, he considered telling her about Canada anyway. But with a smile, he looked at her. "Would you like to hear about the day I met J. Edgar Hoover?"

"I'd love to," Audrey said, and so Cooper launched into his most favourite of tales, with a captive audience at his side and a good twelve minutes of highway still in front of him.

He realized, around the part where fourteen-year-old-Cooper got to shake hands with Hoover and stand there to be photographed, Thompson submachine gun in hand, that Audrey had stopped acknowledging him and his story entirely. They had reached the edge of town and Cooper approached the very first stop light he'd seen the entire way back before he was able to glance in her direction. She was sleeping, her head resting against the clip holding the seatbelt in place over her shoulder. She sighed, breathing several stuttered half-breaths in and out as she readjusted herself in the still car, completely silent now save for the barely audible hum of the engine.

Cooper watched her sleep for two entire light cycles. He would have continued to stare at her beautiful face—the high cheekbones and impossibly red lips, the waved hair, that freckle beside her eye—for much longer had it not been for the appearance of a second car directly behind him, whose passengers would think it strange that he had not accelerated when the light turned green. So Cooper depressed the pedal and eased the car forward, taking the turns slowly, careful when he had to stop, for fear that he'd wake her.

And when he finally pulled up to the curb outside the Great Northern and put the car in 'Park', he didn't know how he should proceed. He glanced at her—she now rested her head against the headrest, her face turned towards him—and reached over to her, against his better judgment, to caress her porcelain skin. She stirred, just barely, and leaned into his hand.

"Are we there yet?" she whispered.

"Yes," he replied, letting his fingers whisper against the apple of her cheek. "Just."

The valet parking attendant who had hurried over to the car stopped on the curb as soon as he recognized that the boss's daughter was in the passenger seat. He stood there, curious but purposefully detached, and when Cooper noticed the man standing at the door, he lifted a hand in acknowledgment before turning his attention back to Audrey for a moment. She sighed and settled back again, and he smiled, looking down at his hands and the seatbelt mechanism at his hip, which he quietly disengaged before letting himself out of the car.

"Is there anything wrong, sir?" the attendant asked as Cooper gently closed the door.

"Miss Horne had a long day," he replied.

"I see," the man replied, confused.

Cooper began to walk around the front of the car to meet him. "We were out for dinner."

"Yes, sir."

Cooper frowned. The conversation suddenly sounded more inappropriate than he wanted it to. Instead of saying anything else, he just smiled curtly and adjusted his coat. "I will help her inside. Thank you."

The attendant walked around to the driver's door as Cooper opened the passenger side. Audrey stirred and shivered from the cold, and Cooper gently reached in to pull her sweater around her shoulders. "Audrey?" he intoned softly.

She rolled her head to face the door and opened her eyes a sliver. "Oh..." she whispered.

"Audrey, let's get inside," he said, leaning in to help her to her feet and smoothly handing his keys and a small gratuity to the attendant beside her. Audrey shivered again and shoved her arms deep inside the sleeves of her sweater.

"You wouldn't know it's almost spring, would you?" she asked.

Cooper pushed the door closed and stepped up beside Audrey, placing a hand on the small of her back. He shivered despite himself. "Well, where I'm from, there's probably still a foot-and-a-half of snow on the ground."

"Philadelphia," she replied dreamily. "I remember that. You're from Philadelphia."

He smiled and pressed his hand a little tighter, protectively, against her back as he guided her towards the door.

The pair encountered no accusatory stares or whispered glances from the hotel staff as they strolled through the lobby; in fact, Cooper later realized, he was fairly certain that nobody had bothered to notice them enter at all. But the whole time, all he could think about was how the situation must have looked to the poor attendant outside, how it would look to the concierge or the night clerk at the front desk, how he wished he'd given the guy outside a bigger tip. _What for? _he asked himself. _You know this is perfectly innocent. You're acting as if you did something wrong..._

Audrey was half-asleep. He knew it the moment they entered the elevator and she swayed a little, her head resting slightly on his shoulder for a brief moment before she caught herself and woke up; and as they walked down the long hallways towards her room, he could feel their pace slowing, see her yawns growing wider and longer as they traveled the floor. When they finally reached her door, across from his, she fumbled for her key and he had to help her find it within her small purse and eventually had to open the door for her entirely.

"Are you going to be okay?" Cooper asked, unable to help himself from sounding so amused by the whole thing.

"I'll be fine," she nodded, tossing her bag onto the desk by the door and kicking off her shoes. "I think you owe me half a story."

Cooper grinned and examined the key in his hand. "You're the one who fell asleep," he said. "I think _you_ owe _me_ a story."

_Are you flirting with her? _Cooper asked himself, blushing as he set her key down with a metallic 'Snap' on the desktop.

She turned around at the sound. He noticed her noticing the key. "Agent Cooper, why don't you keep the key. Seeing as how you'll probably be checking in periodically anyway. I have another one..." she said, glancing lazily around the room. "...somewhere."

He stood there, dumbstruck, looking at the brass key he'd set down and then back at the woman sitting on the bed lobbing innuendo and undertones his way like a Major League pitcher. His hand itched at his side until he closed it into a fist and pressed his fingernails into his palm to keep it still. He floated there for a moment, in between the mind and body, trying to keep himself from losing control entirely.

"Audrey..." he began, softly, slowly returning to the moment.

Audrey cast her eyes up to his face from her perch on the bed. "Agent Cooper?"

He tried again. "Audrey, look..."

And as her eyes cast down again, he knew it wasn't the start she was hoping for. Truthfully, he wasn't even sure if it was what he wanted, either. He hesitated, briefly, nearly closing the distance between himself and the bed. But at that moment, the sound of his own phone ringing in the room across the hall brought his attention back to reality, to the situation, to the reason he was here and the job he was being paid to do.

"I have to go," he said, his voice catching in his throat.

Audrey looked at him, her eyes misted with tears and sleep, and his heartbeat raced for a moment. "Okay," came her soft reply, and he felt his face flush as he turned quickly to get to his room before the caller hung up.

He didn't even remember opening the door, or reaching for the phone and nearly knocking it off of his nightstand. But he did remember hearing Sheriff Truman's voice on the other end informing him that Gerard was in custody, he was ready to talk, that Cooper had better get over there soon. He had barely hung up the phone before he was on his way out the door again, passing the same people in the lobby on his way to ask the same valet attendant to grab his car again.

And as he opened his hand to accept the car keys given to him by the attendant, he noticed, with vast incredulity, that the key to Audrey Horne's hotel room was pressed into his palm. He'd been holding it so tightly that the imprint left in his skin flashed red, shiny; a shallow, key-shaped groove set against the intersection of his life and heart lines.


	6. Necessary Paperwork

_10:00pm_

Cooper rubbed his eyes and downed half of what was left of the lukewarm coffee in his mug, with a grimace he tried to conceal, though he was alone in the room. He peered through the shuttered window of the Sheriff's Department at the low hanging moon and rested one arm on the counter beneath the windowsill. Sheriff Truman walked up to him and clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Long day, Coop?" he asked.

Cooper turned slightly to acknowledge his friend and nodded with a smile. "You got that right, Harry. Somehow, between rescuing Audrey and all this with Gerard, I seem to have forgotten how to sleep."

Truman laughed and patted Cooper's shoulder a few times. "Speaking of Audrey, how is she?"

"Resting," he replied, smacking his lips together as he drank down the last gulp.

"I'll bet she's glad to be home."

"Well, she's glad to _not_ be at One-Eyed Jack's," Cooper began. "But she's not at home."

"What do you mean?"

Cooper angled his shoulders to look at Truman. "Audrey refused to go with her father when he came to collect her earlier today. She's staying in a room at the Great Northern instead."

Truman looked surprised. "Is Ben okay with that?"

"He doesn't really have a choice, Harry. Audrey's eighteen. She made this decision."

Truman pursed his lips and stared out the same window as Cooper. "Have you been to check in on her?"

Cooper sighed and chose his words carefully. "As a matter of fact, Harry, we had a very nice dinner together just before I came here. A wonderful diner, out on the highway, within sight of the border crossing, as a matter of fact. Top notch pie." Cooper nodded and focused on Truman's Adam's apple as he spoke, hearing his voice and wondering why he was suddenly sounding so defensive. "Well she needed to eat, after all. And I was hungry, too."

Truman let out a chuckle. "She's gotten to you."

"Audrey is a lovely young lady. But it's not... ."

"You said it yourself," Truman lowered his voice. "Audrey _is _eighteen."

Cooper shook his head. "I took an oath... ."

"You're a heartbreaker."

Cooper groaned inwardly. Slinging his jacket over his arm, he nodded once at Truman. "Harry, that's exactly what I'm afraid of."

* * *

_March 9_

COOPER: _(whispering) _Diane, it's 6:30 am. You may be wondering why I am whispering. In order to explain, I must go back to last night... (_Pause_)I was with Audrey Horne... (_Sternly_) And I know what you're thinking, but it's not that way. No funny business. (_Continuing_) Audrey has made a nearly full physical recovery after her ordeal at One-Eyed Jack's. Mentally, however, I believe she may need more time to process what has happened. When I returned from interrogating Gerard, I found her in an almost fugue-like state. She asked me to stay with her while she slept, which I agreed to do, though I could hardly call what she did 'sleeping'. She was fitful for most of the night and she had several nightmares that roused her from her slumber more often than not. She is still sleeping, and I hope I do not wake her—I'm whispering because I have returned to her room from my own, for the sole purpose of leaving a note explaining my whereabouts as well as the police presence outside her door. One can never be too careful. (_Long pause; the sound of sheets rustling, shoes on hardwood, a door opening and closing, a sigh. He continues in a regular voice_)So, to make a long story short, I slept through my alarm for the first time that I can remember. I suppose I needed sleep more than I thought. I have a feeling that today will be a busy day. I'll be meeting Harry at the station in a few minutes to bring Philip Gerard back here to the Great Northern in order to—hopefully—identify BOB. We all suspect he is lodged here, somewhere. I hope we close out the day much closer to finding him than we were yesterday.

* * *

COOPER: Diane, it's 1:30pm. I am in the conference room at the Sheriff's department. (_With a light tone_) Have you heard the one about the policeman and his paperwork?(_Pause_) Suffice it to say, today I drew the shortest straw, and I'll be here for a while. Gerard has suffered a seizure at the Great Northern. He was... unable to identify BOB with any certainty from the assembled hotel guests in the lobby. At least not by conventional means. (_Pause; thoughtful_) 'Without chemicals, he points.' _(Pause; muttering)_ The Giant... (_Pause; more composed_) I feel we are on to something, Diane, but I'm not sure what that something is. (_Pause_) Hawk discovered the body of one... (_paper shuffling)_...Harold Smith. Suicide. His body was found in his greenhouse, surrounded by _phalaenopsis amabilis _plants. Orchids. Not that I don't trust your knowledge of Latin horticultural nomenclature, but sometimes it helps to clarify, just in case. (_Pause_) Donna Hayward says Harold was a simple man afflicted with agoraphobia. She informed us that he was in possession of Laura's secret diary, which we found upon examination of his home. It is in shambles, torn into various pieces of various sizes. A nightmare for the investigator trying to reassemble it into something halfway resembling something legible. (_Thoughtful, again_) I do not know what prompted him to take his own life, but it must have been something serious. The man poisoned his flowers—every last one of those orchids, Diane—before it happened. (_Pause; more paper shuffling_) On his body we found what appears to be a suicide note, reading in French—and pardon my accent—_J'ai une ame solitaire_. A sad case all around. (_Pause_) I will spend the rest of the afternoon piecing together the bits and pieces of the diary that we found. It's a dirty job, Diane, but somebody's got to do it.

* * *

_2:47pm_

Cooper clicked off his microcassette recorder as soon as the door opened. Looking up, he saw Audrey slipping in, shrinking against the wall somewhat when she saw he was busy.

He stood up then, his voice insistent. "Audrey!"

"I had to see you," she said, brushing some hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you."

Cooper noticed that she looked tired; her red-rimmed eyes also belied her tears. He came to stand in front of her, an arm's length away, as he shook his head. "How are you feeling?"

She brushed him off with a quick nod. "I spoke with my father."

He wasn't sure where the conversation would go from here. A part of him hesitated, wondering if perhaps she was coming by to inform him that she was vacating the room across the hall from his. He surprised himself by very quickly and very decisively making up his mind that he did not want that to happen. To hide the slight blush of embarrassment flaming his cheeks, he looked down slightly and slipped his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah?"

The pain in her voice was evident, written all over her face and in the tone and dripping off her words. "He was sleeping with her. With Laura," she said, her voice so thin he wasn't quite sure he was hearing her. "I don't know for how long. Maybe quite a while."

Cooper was taken aback. He glanced from Audrey's face to the table, to Laura's diary pieces which were scattered out over its surface. "Holy smokes... ."

"She was up at One-Eyed Jack's. Working there," Audrey continued. "He owns the place. That's what I found out."

Cooper tried to hide his shock at Audrey's information but it was futile. "He told you this?"

Audrey nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes... ."

Once again, Cooper looked back at the table, sizing up his choices. It seemed like too many pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together to ignore the picture being created. Mike had his seizure, Cooper recalled, as soon as Ben walked into the lobby. _Pointing without chemicals, as it were, _Cooper thought. Audrey's information about Ben's ownership of the brothel and his relationship with Laura, coupled with the diary entry, all seemed to point in one direction. And yet... .

"What are you gonna do?" Audrey's insistent question brought him back to reality, as did Sheriff Truman, who pushed open the door almost right into Cooper's shoulder. Cooper didn't know what to tell her; he acknowledged Truman and took a step back.

She persisted. "What are you gonna do? Are you gonna arrest him?"

This was her father they were discussing; Cooper had to be mindful of that. What could he say? "Audrey, I don't want you to say a word about this to anyone," he replied.

Audrey seemed to relax. She blinked and let out a breath before answering: "Okay."

_Yes, Audrey. I promise you, it will be okay_, he wanted to say. Instead, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Okay," Cooper said. "Go on home."

She looked as if she were ready to crumble. Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked only halfway to keep them from falling. He held her gaze as long as she would let him, until she turned, his hand guiding her to the door. When she stepped out of the room and turned back to look at him, he wasn't sure what to do. He peered around Truman's shoulders, once again refusing to break her gaze. An intense moment later, he watched as she turned and walked away, back towards the reception area.

Truman looked quizzical. "What's going on?"

He had almost forgotten that the Sheriff was there. How much of that silent exchange had he seen? Cooper regained his composure. "Without chemicals, he points."

Truman narrowed his eyes, confused, and Cooper continued. "This morning at the Great Northern, Mike reached for his arm and fainted... just as a certain person walked into the room," he paused, letting the idea sink in as he rolled through the possible consequences for the Horne family. _Especially Audrey_. There was nothing else to do. "Harry we need a warrant. A warrant for the arrest of Benjamin Horne."

"Okay, Coop," Truman said, "I'm gonna need a little more to go on than that."

"Harry," Cooper reached around the Sheriff to close the door, then stepped back over to the table. "I've been piecing together Laura's diary for the last hour-and-a-half and I've come across numerous mentions of BOB and the sexual abuse Laura seems to have suffered at his hands, over a period of many years. He is referred to more than once as a friend of her father's. And then there is this entry, dated from the middle of February," he reached over and pointed to the page open on the table. "'Someday, I'm gonna tell the world about Ben Horne. I'm gonna tell them who Ben Horne really is.'"

Truman read over the entry and shrugged his shoulders. "You really think Ben...?"

"Did you know that Ben Horne owns One-Eyed Jack's?" Cooper continued.

Truman pursed his lips. "Honestly, Coop, somehow that doesn't surprise me."

"Audrey just told me that she spoke with her father. He was sleeping with Laura, probably for some time. Ben Horne is a friend of Leland Palmer's. He's known Laura for years. If we piece Audrey's information into the gaps in Laura's diary... ."

Truman shook his head and finished Cooper's sentence. "...It fits."

Cooper stood up to his full height. "I know it seems like a long shot, Harry, but we need to bring Ben Horne in for questioning."

Truman regarded his colleague closely before nodding. "All right Coop. I'll draw up the necessary paperwork."

Cooper clapped a hand on Truman's shoulder. "Harry, you're all right."

Truman turned to leave and made it as far as the door before stopping. "So Coop?"

"Yeah Harry."

"What _is _going on between you and Audrey?"

Cooper looked up and caught Truman's eyes. "Nothing."

"That look, Coop?" Truman nodded. "I've seen that look before."

"What _look_?" Cooper asked.

"The look that says 'Goner,' which was written all over your face as Audrey Horne left the room not two minutes ago."

Before Cooper could answer, Truman turned the doorknob and found his way out into the hallway.

Cooper stood there at the table, staring at the space vacated by the Sheriff for a long moment before gathering up the pieces of Laura's diary and putting them back in the bag to be placed in storage. He needed a break, a cup of coffee, and some lunch.


	7. Messages for Diane

_Friday March 10_

COOPER: Diane, it's 2 am. Much has happened tonight. We've arrested Benjamin Horne on suspicion of murder. He is awaiting arraignment in lockup down at the station. I've also been to the Roadhouse, where I had another encounter—my third so far—with the Giant. I have a funny feeling about tonight. He told me that it was happening again. I do not know, nor can I pretend to know, what that means. Something happened at that bar, Diane... something I can't put my finger on. But it affected everyone in attendance. (_Pause) _Which reminds me: I must speak with Sheriff Truman about the legal age in this county. Seeing not one but _three_ Twin Peaks Consolidated High School students out on a school night, at a _bar _no less...(_Shuffling sounds; shoes on hardwood) _I am returning to my room now after checking on Audrey. I feel badly for not getting in sooner, but my work has kept me on a short leash. She was, as I suspected, sound my amazement, I did find two empty food trays in Audrey's room; her appetite appears healthy and she has taken my advice about the room service. She seems to have made a full _physical_ recovery. (_Long pause; door creaking; keys on a table; a heavy sigh_) Diane, I must confess to you that I sat with Audrey for several minutes tonight before leaving. I had no reason to be there any longer, my purpose for going having since expired, but I found myself... unable to leave her side. So I sat in the chair by her bed and watched her sleep. (_Pause_) And it was the most peaceful moment of my day. (_Another pause_) I am captivated by her. Drawn to her. She is—as I told her the night I found her in a rather compromising state of undress, in my room, in my _bed_—everything a man should want in his life. (_Pause; softly_)Is it wrong for me to want her in mine? (_Pause_) But these are questions for another day. It's late; I'm going to enjoy a glass of warm milk and perhaps catch an infomercial or two before turning in. Nothing like feeling the tempting pull of the TV pitchman as the night turns into morning. (_Pause_)Good night, Diane.

* * *

COOPER: Diane, 10:03 am, Great Northern Hotel. Sheriff Truman and I have just been with the one-armed man... or what's left of him. In another time, another culture, he may have been a seer, a Shaolin priest. In our worldhe's a shoe salesman and lives among the shadows... (_click; seconds of silence_) Diane, a strange thing has just occurred. As we entered the lobby of the Great Northern, we came upon Leland Palmer doing a spot-on impersonation of Fred Astaire. You know how much I enjoy a good tap dance number, Diane, but this was neither the time nor the place. Grief does strange things to people, but I'm beginning to suspect that this goes much deeper than that. There is something wrong with Leland. I'm sure of it.

* * *

COOPER: Diane: 1:45 pm. In the span of the last few hours, Mr. Gerard—or Mike as he's sometimes known to us—has been in custody, gone missing, and has turned up again near White Tail Falls. Hawk is bringing him into the station as we speak... (_Pause; awed_) I do not know what we would do if it weren't for Hawk, Diane. (_Authoritatively_) When we get to the station, I have suggested that we take Mr. Gerard to meet Ben. I want to try and elicit a similar response from him as we had yesterday morning in the lobby. (_Pause; more brightly_) On a semi-related note, Sheriff Truman and I are in agreement: Leland Palmer should have his license revoked until he is well. The man nearly killed us not five minutes ago. That, or—as I half-seriously suggested—this state's mandatory driver education program needs to be completely and seriously overhauled.

* * *

COOPER: It's 4:30 pm. I'm at the Sheriff's station. Diane, Mike has been with us; he insists that BOB is not near us now, but that he's been close. I am concerned that we've been chasing the wrong leads and that if we prosecute Ben Horne for this crime, we'll be in a hole of our own making out of which it will be impossible to climb. (_Pause_) I have expressed my concerns to Sheriff Truman but he sees the evidence. I cannot fault him for that. I have chosen to place my faith in an... unorthodox method of inquiry. And I doubt Ben's guilt. (_Another pause_) But if he isn't, who _is_?

* * *

COOPER: 7:24. Diane, tonight is a rare night indeed. I find myself with nothing to do, workwise. The town is quiet. Thus, I have taken it upon myself to visit the local library - (_awed_) open until 9pm on a Friday night, Diane, can you believe it? - and pull a few books on various subjects to read. (_Rustling sound; soft 'thunk' as books are piled on top of one another_) Tibet... Pacific Northwest history... Native American mythology... and muscle cars. (_Wistful, nostalgic_) Diane, did I ever tell you about my dream of restoring a 1965 Mustang? It's only too bad that I don't know a piston from a carburetor. (_Pause; more rustling_) I'm kidding, of course. (_Clears throat_)When I am finished with these subjects, I will probably order some room service and watch television, although I'm not sure what's on nowadays... I don't think I've watched a TV program that was not news-related or borne out of the American zest for home shopping since the start of the Reagan administration.

* * *

COOPER: Diane, 9:30. You know that I pride myself on my even-tempered and inquisitive outlook on life; there is very little that frustrates me. However, I am ashamed to admit that I do not understand the music video. (_Audible sigh_) I have only just started reading the books I selected and am finding them... difficult to get 'into'. I feel as though I am in college again, Diane. A strange feeling. (_Pause_) I must at some point tonight change the bandage on my gunshot wound. I must also check in on Audrey. She was not in her room when I went over an hour ago. I have not seen her since yesterday. I do not believe she has checked out, as her room still contains personal items; however, it would not surprise me if she were planning on returning home soon. And I am _not _ashamed to admit that this troubles me. (_Pause_) For several reasons... .


	8. It's Happening Again

Cooper finished wrapping the bandage and secured it at his side with the small clips provided in the kit from Dr. Hayward. It had been over a week, and though he felt better, he still felt a pinch in his stomach every so often from where the bullet had entered. When he'd carried Audrey out of One-Eyed Jack's, he'd felt the pull then, too, but had ignored it long enough to see her to safety. He now wondered if he'd done more damage in the act; the pain had grown consistently worse since that night. Having the bandage on reminded him to take it easy.

Thinking about Audrey made him think about Ben, and the feeling he had that perhaps the misguided town patriarch was not the man they were looking for after all. It was a troubling thought, and one that filled his mind as he reached over to grab his tape recorder, sitting beside the still warm cherry pie and the tall glass of milk he'd ordered from room service. He clicked it on as he brought it to his mouth. "Diane, its 11:05 pm, I'm in my room at the Great Northern Hotel," he paused, looking up and out of the window across from him. "There's not a star in the sky tonight... Ben Horne is in custody," he said, immediately wondering why he'd felt the need to repeat that bit of information to her. He squinted, trying to focus and get his thoughts—derailed by books, music videos, Audrey—back on track. "The trail narrows Diane. I'm very close but the last few steps are always the darkest and most difficult... ."

The knock that followed his sentence startled, annoyed, and relieved him. Slightly. He clicked the recorder off, wondering if Diane would mind if he recorded over his babbling incoherence, and started towards the door. He grabbed his shirt off the end of the bed and threw it on, and just to be safe, took his gun out of its holster on the dresser. _You learned your lesson, Coop..._, he thought to himself as he pulled the door wide open.

"Hi," Audrey said, a slight smile on her face.

"Audrey?"

He hadn't realized how much he'd missed her, but seeing her there brought it all back. He felt his heart start to race, and gripped the door to steady himself.

"Can I come in and talk?" she asked.

"All right," he replied—certain that he sounded less than enthused, or at least less enthused than he really was—stepping out of the way so she could enter.

Audrey slipped past him. "Ohh, is that where you got shot?" she asked, her voice taking on the intonation and wonder of a child as her eyes traveled down to the bandage—exposed through his open shirt—and back up to his face.

"Yeah," he replied, embarrassed. He quickly moved to close his shirt and replace the gun in its holster. Audrey clung to the wall.

"Did you arrest him?" Audrey asked quickly. Her voice betrayed her emotions; she sounded on the verge of tears.

Cooper turned to face her. "Yeah," he replied.

Audrey appeared to know that already, but hearing the words seemed to bring all her feelings to the surface. She nodded, her lip trembling, and walked along the wall. "Did he do it?"

"That's for a court to decide."

"What do you think?"

He watched her, hands behind her back, head cocked to the side. _Professionalism, Cooper... be professional. _"What I think doesn't really matter right now."

Audrey's eyes were misty; he could see that now. She swallowed and leaned against the wall again. "Did you arrest him because of what I said?"

"Only in part," he said, softening his tone, trying to be reassuring.

"But it helped."

He knew what she was asking. Her father was in jail and she was the one who had put him there. He didn't have to try very hard to imagine her guilt. A whispered "Yeah," was all he could answer her with.

She seemed resigned to it all. She looked away from him, up at the ceiling, and then fixed her eyes on his face. "All I ever really wanted was for him to love me."

Cooper took a step forward. "I'm sure that he does."

But the way Audrey leveled her gaze at him suggested otherwise. "He's ashamed of me," she replied, seemingly believing every word to be true.

Cooper shook his head in disbelief. "No he's not."

But his words fell on deaf ears. Audrey looked deflated as she let out a breath and hung her head. She climbed into the centre of the bed, where she knelt on his comforter and stared up at him. "Agent Cooper?"

He leaned over against the footboard, closing the gap between them.

"When I was at One-Eyed Jack's, I never, _never _let _anyone_... ."

In the span of time it took for her to start talking until the time he cut her off, a million thoughts ran through Cooper's mind. He knew what she was talking about; he knew the moment she started.

He softened his voice in his eventual reply, "Audrey... you don't have to say anything."

She pleaded. "But I want you to know—"

"I _know_."

It was simple, but strong. He could tell it meant more to her than he, or anyone, could possibly know. She held his gaze for an intense moment, while he fought the urge of every fibre in his being to lean across the bed and gather her in his arms, to kiss her, to - and this thought startled him slightly, and he blushed. He knew it then, felt it then, like he'd never done before: the sexual tension and the desire and the longing. He was falling for Audrey, or _had fallen _for her already. And the longer he focused on the deep, darkness of her eyes, the harder it became to resist.

Cooper didn't even hear the phone ringing on his bedside table until long after the second ring. His voice was caught in the back of his throat as he tried to speak. "I have to get that."

She nodded slightly; he comforted himself by thinking that she'd felt it too. "Okay," she replied, just as softly. But he couldn't look away; she wouldn't let him. The phone rang again, and he paused a beat before finally standing up tall and walking to the side of the bed, dimly aware of Audrey rearranging herself atop the covers to face him.

"Cooper here," he answered.

Truman's voice sounded far away on the other end of the line. "Coop, we found another body."

Cooper's face fell. "Where?"

"The falls."

"How long ago?"

"They're preparing to pull it out of the river now."

"I'm on my way."

Cooper replaced the phone in the cradle.

"What's wrong?" Audrey asked, the slightest edge of panic in her voice.

Cooper paused for a moment before striding around the end of the bed. "Audrey, I want you to go to your room and lock the door."

"Why?" she asked, the edge in her voice hardening as it rose in pitch.

Cooper once again bent over, looking her straight in the eye. "No questions. Do what I say."

Sensing the urgency, Audrey climbed off the bed. "All right," she replied.

Cooper grabbed his things and followed her out the door, closing it behind him. He waited until she opened her door and was standing framed by the gnarled wood doorjamb before continuing. "Audrey, I mean this when I say it: do not open the door for anyone. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said, her voice trembling.

"Close the blinds. Stay away from the windows," he put his arm through the gun holster and slung it around his back. "I'll check in with you later."

"You're scaring me, Agent Cooper," she lowered her voice to a shaky whisper.

As he shot his arm through the sleeve of his jacket, he paused, considering her. A hair's breadth of a moment passed, coupled with the smallest amount of hesitation, before Cooper brought his hand up to the side of her face, stroked her cheek with his thumb, and then just as quickly leaned in and pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth.

"I'll be back soon," he breathed, his lips whispered over her cheek. "I promise."

She stared back at him, her face colouring crimson, before nodding and closing the door behind her. He paused only a moment before continuing on down the hall, to the scene of another crime.


	9. Revelations

_**A/N: Thank you for the reviews and PMs, Follows and Favourites I've received for this story! I've never considered these kinds of interactions to be something I'm entitled to, but nothing makes a writer feel better than to know someone out there read your work and took precious time from their schedule to tell you how much they've enjoyed it. I even had an anonymous review (thank you for writing, whoever you are!) the other day telling me that he/she had a dream about Coop & Audrey and that perhaps my story had something to do with it-it's amazing to think about the connections we make as writers/readers! **THANK YOU** for your support. I hope this story (and the two that will follow in this trilogy) will continue to live up to your expectations!**_

* * *

"Diane, it's nearly a quarter past two. AM," Cooper dictated into his recorder, yawning wide as he entered the empty hallway of his floor in Great Northern hotel. "We have just discovered the body of Madeleine Ferguson. Washed ashore at the bottom of the falls just before midnight. This case has grown much larger than I thought possible when I first arrived two weeks ago," he paused, amused. "Two weeks _today_, Diane." He shook his head and smiled sadly. "Harry is convinced this is finished now, with the appropriate man in custody, being charged for these crimes. And I want to believe that he's right. But my concern grows by the minute."

He passed Audrey's room at the end of the hall and wondered if she'd be awake still, if he should go check on her. _Surely the need for that has passed? _he queried. _What would you say, anyway? Tell her about the case? What you saw tonight? No. You really want to go in there because... ._

He shook his head and yawned again, treading softly on the hardwood floor and turning towards his room. He reached into his pocket and took out his room key—latched onto the same keyring as hers—and as he reached his door, he very quietly tried to open it.

There was a message on his phone; the little light blinked incessantly on the dresser. As Cooper unbuttoned his shirt and prepared for bed, he cradled the phone between his ear and his shoulder and listened as Audrey's voice lilted over the line.

"Agent Cooper, I guess it's been an hour since you left and told me to stay here, and I've been good and done what you said. But I see the lights in the trees and I know something bad has happened. I'm worried and I wish you would come back and tell me what's going on. I keep thinking that this has something to do with my father. Do you think I did the right thing by telling you what I did? I don't know what to feel. I know my father loved Laura, but could he have murdered her? Maybe I'm just mad at him...," she trailed off and he could hear her sigh on the other end. "Did I ever tell you that I had a cat when I was little? His name was Sox because he was all black but he had these little white 'socks' on his feet. Daddy hit him with the car one night. I don't remember how old I was. I cried for hours and hours but he never comforted me or said sorry. The very next day, do you know what he did? He bought Laura a pony. _Laura_. He ran over _my _cat, and he bought _her_ a pony." She laughed, but there was nothing joyous in the sound. "I wonder if I'm just jealous. I don't know my father very well and as much as I want him to love me and be proud of me, I don't know if I love him or just the _idea_ of him."

Cooper had stopped, his dress shirt hanging unbuttoned, his hand braced on the dresser. He closed his eyes as he listened to the deep breath she took before finishing her message.

"I'm rambling now. I can see those lights and I imagine that you're there and it helps to know that you're not so far away. I guess I'll leave it at that. Oh! One last thing: That kiss. It was a kiss, right? I know the score, Agent Cooper. I'm just a girl, and you're a federal agent—" she paused, no more than a heartbeat, before continuing, "—but I wanted you to know that it was nice, and I won't tell a soul, I promise. Goodnight, Dale Cooper."

He listened to the click of the phone being replaced on the cradle, in that locked room across the hall, and replaced his own phone seconds after that. He let out a breath and fought the urge to race across the hall and break down her door and... instead, he grabbed a pen and a piece of hotel stationary and began to scrawl a short note to her:

_Dear Audrey:_

_I am sorry for the lateness of my response. I received your phone message upon my arrival, well after 2:30 this morning. There is much to discuss. Perhaps over breakfast, we can make some headway. Downstairs,10:30?_

_Yours,_

_Dale_

His hasty message included a scribbled out "Agent" in the signature; this first-name basis thing was going to take some getting used to.

He hesitated before sliding it under her door. Only when he received her beautifully penned response upon waking—early—the next morning did his fear disappear. 'My Special Agent' it said on the front, and inside: 'It's a date"

Once again, he smiled. _My Special Agent_. She wrote it like she meant it, with a firm, unbroken line, her penmanship flawless, as if she hadn't needed to pause to consider what she wrote, as if she believed every word she scrawled in blue-black ink across the page. Like an unspoken secret code they had both agreed to. As he prepared to start his day, he slipped the note into his inside breast pocket, keeping her little possessives close to his heart.

Deep down, he liked being 'hers'.

* * *

Four hours had elapsed between leaving his room for the sheriff's station and arriving again to meet Audrey. The morning was half over. Cooper had been with Agent Rosenfield, Sheriff Truman, and Deputy Hawk for over an hour, during which time they went over Albert's findings from the night before. He had a lot of information to digest—Maddy's killer was most definitely the same person who had attacked Ronette and killed Laura and Teresa; a tiny 'O' embedded under her left ring fingernail attested to that. Furthermore, Maddy had white fox fur clutched in her right hand. The facts had disturbed Cooper more than he thought—the pieces were tantalizingly close to falling into place. He had told Albert that he needed 24 hours to finish this. And that was what he intended to do.

He pondered his next move for a further three hours before realizing he had to return, but the answers had not been forthcoming. Something was missing.

Cooper had barely ordered his morning coffee when he watched Audrey walk into the hotel restaurant. Seeing her shook all thoughts of the case from his mind. Her eyes belied a lack of sleep, but other than that, he surmised, she looked sufficiently radiant. He envied the one who would eventually be allowed to wake up to her every morning, a thought that he—professionally—banished from his mind before it had a chance to roost.

"Good morning, Agent Cooper."

"Good morning, Audrey," he stood up to welcome her to the table and waited until she sat down before taking a seat again.

"You're such a gentleman," she smiled at him. "It's refreshing. We don't get a lot of your type here."

Cooper looked down at his plate and watched the last of the bubbles on top of his coffee burst into the deep darkness of the liquid within his cup. "How was your night?

"Long," she replied. "I waited up for you."

"I know."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

He looked up at her and barely shook his head. "No, I can't."

"Then why did you call me down here, Agent Cooper?" Her eyes twinkled with mischief and flirtation as she brought her elbows up to the tabletop and rested her chin against her cupped palms.

"Dale," he corrected, his voice whisper-soft.

She smiled at him. "Right. Dale... ."

She held his gaze. Cooper felt his palms beginning to sweat, and the old feeling of butterflies in his stomach—a curious feeling, one he hadn't felt in years—coupled with a spreading warmth in his midsection and a rising tightness against the zipper of his dress pants reminded him of not only _where_ he was but _who _he was. _How do you suppose it would look, g__etting an erection in the middle of a family dining establishment with the daughter of the proprietor sitting across from you..._ Cooper reminded himself. He blinked twice and began thinking about Disneyland and how he would describe this moment to Diane, in the most painfully scientifically accurate terms possible (_Diane, 10:45... my penis is engorging with blood in preparation for the act of coitus..._)

Just then, Cooper saw Andy walking towards him across the dining room. The look of concern on his face left much to the imagination, but over his shoulder, he saw Donna Hayward, standing in the restaurant entryway. Cooper leaned back in his chair and smiled. "Good morning, Andy," he said, his voice cracking over the first syllable.

"Agent Cooper," Andy said. "Donna Hayward says she needs to speak with you. It's about Harold Smith. She says it's important."

Cooper nodded at Andy and then looked back at Audrey. She simply smiled. "Maybe some other time."

"I promise, Audrey," he said, and she nodded. He flagged down his waitress and told her to charge everything to his account, and with one final glance at the woman across from him, he draped his coat over his shoulders and strode across the dining room with Andy to join Donna.

* * *

COOPER: Diane, 12:03 PM. My breakfast da—meeting—with Audrey Horne was sidelined this morning, most unfortunately, owing to Donna Hayward's sudden arrival and her curious information regarding the suicide note left on Harold Smith's body. The Mrs. Tremond that Donna met last week on her Meals on Wheels route was not the same Mrs. Tremond we encountered today (_Pause_) I don't think I need to tell you that this town, for all its charm, has a tendency to become stranger and stranger with each passing moment. (_Pause; quicker, brighter_) Diane, it also became apparent to me that Laura Palmer and I shared the same dream. Somehow, it all points to Mike—Mr. Gerard. I am on my way to see him as we speak. I'll fill you in when I get through with him.

* * *

COOPER: Diane, I have just finished with Philip Gerard. He said some curious things...the key to all of this, he said, is within me. My dream. The Giant. 'He is known to us here.' That is what Gerard told me. I also encountered my friend, the room service waiter who so _helpfully _assisted me the night I was shot. (_Pause_) Diane, there is a link here. Maybe we _are_ getting warmer... .

* * *

COOPER: Diane...I can not discount the forces of magic that seem to pervade the very atmosphere over this town. This afternoon, I tapped into them to help me unlock this mystery. The Giant appeared to me, for the fourth time. I remembered what Laura said in my dream. 'My father killed me.' Diane, the killer is Leland Palmer.


	10. Safe

_**A/N: This is where the abridged version of "Of Death and Moonbeams" comes from; you finally get to see it in context. I hope it's worth it for you to read again!**_

* * *

Somehow, somewhere along the highway into Twin Peaks, Cooper had forgotten how to respond. On this day, he had entirely lost track of time. From the position of the setting sun on the western horizon and given the time of year, he surmised that it was likely between 5:30 and 6:00. He had given the time of Leland Palmer's death as 4:23 PM. _That sounds about right_, Cooper thought as he pushed down on the accelerator and sped up the Great Northern Highway towards the hotel.

Cooper felt his still-damp hair and sighed. He could still see Leland's blood on his hands, could still feel his body weighed down against his lap by the water and the guilt. _I held him while he died_, Cooper thought. He twisted the steering wheel in his hands. _It shouldn't have happened like that._

He didn't remember getting out of his car or handing his keys to the valet, or even of climbing aboard the elevator in the lobby; he was only dimly aware of dropping his keys on the floor outside his room as he pushed the door open and entered the suite that he had called home for over two weeks.

Dale Cooper was no stranger to death. But tonight, the death of Leland Palmer had shaken him to his core.

Was it the violence of his end? The tragedy of it all? The fact that Sarah Palmer would now have to bury her husband, so soon after burying her only child? Was it because he'd held the man's head in his hands as he passed from this world into the next, that he was the last person Leland spoke to, that the moment his spirit left his body, Cooper's were the arms that held him?

He had no idea; he wasn't about to analyze it. Owing to the circumstances, Sheriff Truman insisted Cooper take the night off. And while, at the time, Cooper had protested the early leave, he now recognized it as a stroke of wisdom on the young sheriff's part. Cooper shut the world out behind him and leaned against the solid pine, trying to remember how to cry.

He found his way to the edge of the bed and sat down, dramatically imagining every spring in the mattress buckling under the weight before shrugging the sentiment off and chastising himself for being such a fool. In his right hand was his tape recorder; Cooper's thumb lingered over the 'Record' button, circling but unable to depress it. Eventually, he replaced it in his pocket. What could he say anyway?

Pushing back more strands of suddenly unkempt hair rendered unruly by a sprinkler system gone haywire, Cooper sighed deeply and found a knot in the floorboards to stare at while he contemplated his next move. There would be paperwork to file, the requisite phone call to Gordon Cole about the wrap-up. There would be the funeral, of course, and he would stay for that. But eventually there would have to be an exit strategy put in place, a way to extricate himself from the lives of the townspeople he had grown to love so much since he'd arrived. He needed to remember to talk to Diane about Gordon's next case, where he should return his rental car—Seattle? Tacoma? The airport? He blinked, knocking a single tear off his eyelashes and onto the polished toe of his dress shoe.

Cooper didn't hear the knock at his door, the slight groan it made as it swung open, or the soft padded footsteps as Audrey's slippered feet trod the distance from the entryway to the corner of his bed.

"Agent Cooper?" she asked.

"Hm?" he looked up, barely. "Oh... Audrey." He swallowed and tried sitting up straight, inhaling as he went. "How are you?"

She ignored his question entirely. "Is everything okay?"

"Couldn't be better."

She leaned forward against the wall, watching him from around the corner. "I know what happened, Agent Cooper."

"You do?"

A pause; enough time for Audrey to breathe in and consider her next sentence. "My father came home this afternoon."

"Mm-hmm."

"Mr. Palmer died?"

Cooper nodded solemnly. "Mm-hmm."

Audrey stood still, silent. "You were there."

It wasn't a question but rather more like an affirmation. _He was there_. Cooper's shoulders sagged and he felt his face fall as he simply nodded his assent, his head moving slowly up and down, hoping it was enough for her.

He opened his hands, palms up, and counted the lines and wrinkles he saw, imagining Leland's blood sticking in the deep recesses where he couldn't see it, even now, after scrubbing his hands raw at the station. He became aware of Audrey stepping towards him, crossing between him and the wall, and sitting down on his right side, nearest the head of the bed. When he saw her hand enter his field of vision—as she reached forward to lay her hand inside his, palm down—he felt both eyes well up and cloud over. Somehow, he didn't care if she saw; when he blinked this time and two teardrops fell to land on her skin, she just slid her fingers between his and squeezed tight.

"Don't cry, Agent Cooper," she cooed, waiting a moment before continuing. "I mean, it's okay if you have to... ."

"I-I'm sorry, Audrey."

"It's all right."

They sat in silence, holding hands, for a long while. She leaned into him, and he relished the feeling: to be warm, to be supportive, to be needed. Even in his own time of need, it was empowering to be on the other end. While time ticked away, he felt a growing awareness of the seconds slipping by but made no attempt to count them. It could have been five minutes; it could have been sixty-five. He had no way of knowing. The silence, the weight of Audrey's head on his shoulder, and the crushing emptiness of Leland's death settled around him.

Audrey finally cleared her throat. "Agent Cooper... can I ask you a question?"

Cooper straightened up. The moment, he knew, was over. "Of course."

"You told me once that secrets are dangerous things, right?"

He nodded. "They can be."

"And you said we're friends. And the last time I checked, friends don't keep secrets from one another."

He nodded again, failing to see where she was going.

"Well, Agent Cooper, I have a secret. Kind of. I mean, it's not a very well-kept secret but it's a secret and I should tell you because it involves you... ."

"What is it, Audrey?"

She turned her body to face him. Their knees touched, barely, but she never looked directly at him. He watched her watch the wall, her mouth seeming to chew on the words she intended to say. Finally, she parted her lips.

"Ever since I was old enough to know about these things, I wanted it to be special—" she nodded, unsure, "—You know, my _first time_. And I might have been drugged, but... ."

"What are you talking about?"

She sighed and closed her eyes, slipping her hand out from between his. "When I was up at Jack's...," and as she trailed off, she began to circle her right wrist with the fingers of her left hand. "It wasn't supposed to be like that. I wasn't going to let _anyone_ take that from me."

Cooper sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for her to finish, because it was the polite thing to do, because she needed to talk. But the pause in her speech turned into a full-stop, a silence, and he cleared his throat, taking advantage of the moment. "You're a much stronger woman than I think anyone gives you credit for, Audrey," Cooper said.

She didn't smile. Her hand lifted almost of its own accord to brush her hair behind her ear. "I'm telling you because I need you to know why."

He almost wished she would stop, because the feeling in the pit of his stomach was back and he was starting to feel the slight cardiovascular tremble of the emotionally involved. "Why...?"

She shook her head slowly, letting her eyes fall to her lap. "I know I can tell you this because... well, to be honest Agent Cooper, I wasn't just saving myself for _anyone_."

It clicked, suddenly and with such force that it nearly knocked the wind out of him. He had suspected; it had been written all over her walk and her charm and the way she looked at him, from their first meeting until now. But hearing it—nearly—from her lips...

He glanced over at her. "Audrey... ."

She beat a hasty retreat. "And I know what you're thinking," she said, repeating his words almost verbatim, "I hardly know you and this is wrong and it can't happen." She sounded almost disappointed, or dejected. Her backpedaling was commendable. "And maybe it's not even that I wanted it to be _you_... maybe I wanted or needed it to be someone _like _you. But I need you to know that all that time, up at Jack's, thinking of you and waiting for you and praying to you and hoping it would _be_ you was what kept me from—"

Cooper caught her mid-sentence, bringing his hand up and laying a finger gently across her lips, cutting her off. It seemed that they'd been there before; it was a conversation they'd already had. But he didn't stop it. He pushed ahead. He outlined her lip.

He didn't know what he was doing.

"I know, Audrey."

She pursed her lips slightly, as if kissing his fingertip, before pulling away and just barely closing her eyes. And when she opened them, for the first time that night, they connected with his and whatever resolve he once had melted away. She blinked, slowly, her lashes barely touching. "I wanted—"

"I know," was his simple reply, as he floated over her porcelain skin and let the tips of his fingers brush her cheek, first, and then land softly against the side of her face, half buried in the hair behind her ear.

"I wanted—"

And instead of replying verbally, Cooper's broken resistance let him bridge the gap between them, leaning forward to claim a kiss. And if she _had_ wanted to resist, her resolve weakened - though he was certain there wasn't much there to begin with - the moment his lips touched hers. He slid closer to her on the bed, felt her hands on the back of his neck, buried his own fingers deeper within her hair. When she parted her lips, letting him in, he thought he might die.

Minutes passed, feeling like hours and seconds all at once. Cooper ran through the laundry list of reasons why he shouldn't be doing what he was doing, and came away with a series of strikethroughs and marginalia declaring "I don't care" en Audrey ran her hands down from the back of his neck to the front of his shirt and began loosening his tie and undoing the buttons she found along the way, Cooper said to himself: _I shouldn't be allowing Audrey Horne to take off my shirt like this._ And as he pushed aside the cotton cardigan covering her shoulders and followed the line of her arms as he let it fall to the bed, he said: _I shouldn't be removing Audrey Horne's sweater like this. _And as she tugged up on his undershirt, or as her inexperienced fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, or as he traced a line of kisses from her lips to the soft skin at the base of her throat, he said: _I shouldn't be allowing Audrey Horne to do these things to me... and I certainly shouldn't be doing these things to Audrey Horne... ._

Cooper didn't care about the Bureau and he was prepared to not care about the oath. He'd temporarily forgotten that he was more than a decade older than her. But he couldn't forget what she'd been through, her innocence, and even though he didn't want to care, he knew he cared deeply. So he stopped—leaning in against her shoulder, kissing her gently on the side of her neck—and gave her an out.

"Audrey?" he asked finally.

Breathless came her reply. "Mm?"

Cooper found it hard to speak; his voice was thick in his throat. "You can tell me to stop, right here, right now, and I will."

"I know," she said, pulling away slightly. "Do _you_ want to stop?"

He kissed her again. "It doesn't matter. This has to be what _you_ want."

Audrey leaned back even further, laying against the pillows, and looking directly at him. "I want _you_," she whispered, reaching for him.

"This is serious, Audrey," Cooper said, grasping her hand in his as he kissed her palm. "We don't get to redo this."

She tugged on his hand, pulling him down towards her, and he knew she _was_ serious. At that moment, wild horses couldn't have dragged him from her arms. With cautious footing, they made quick work of the remaining few layers of clothing separating them; when he took in the sight of her, a blush of embarrassment coloured her face; when bare skin touched bare skin, she shivered. _Go slow,_ he warned himself, right before she whispered in his ear "Go slow" and he knelt between her knees, leaned up on his elbows, and promised that he would. She smiled and said "I know" drawing his lower lip into her mouth as he slid within her.

In the swiftly darkening suite, under blankets of sincere but sweetly seductive modesty (hers) and intense, ardent desire (his), they laughed and sighed and eventually found their rhythm, matching movements. He hung on her every word, every sound uttered from the softness of her lips, and she drank in his half-finished breaths, smoothing out his roughness with her naivete. Awakening. Teasing and tender, soft yet searching; above all, no expectations.

And yet, whether from anticipation or something else entirely, she reached up and gripped the headboard, floating away in a million pieces anyway and arching her back and calling his name and gasping for air as she clung to his shoulders. He released as she came back to him, burying his face in her neck to muffle the groans, and in his arms she reassembled herself, regained the function of her senses and her limbs, kissed his hair as she murmured nonsense to herself. He had to smile at that: he felt like doing the very same thing.

Hours later, Cooper could still taste her on his lips. They'd taken their time, again and again, exploring one another. He'd never laughed so hard or as much as he did when he laughed with Audrey; the timid way she moved—on top of him, beneath him, in front of him—was more alluring than the most overt sexual overtones he'd encountered in his life. He'd never been a prolific lover, but of all the women he'd been to bed with, Audrey was by far the most intriguing, most sexual, most fun he'd ever had. Because, warming up to herself, she became unguarded, ravenous even; given enough time, Cooper thought, she'd be able to walk that line between shy and wild with such ease.

He wondered about being there, in some capacity, along the way.

Now, however, Audrey lay on her side, her arm draped across his chest, her head nestled under his chin. So much like a child, in fact, that Cooper felt a twinge of guilt thinking about the things they'd done... .

"We were good, weren't we?"

Cooper looked down at Audrey—taking in the bemused and slightly seductive twist in her lips, the half-lidded eyes—and smiled in spite of himself before kissing the top of her head. In an instant, the guilt he'd felt had been kneaded into a curious mix of tenderness and erotic longing. Her sigh was enough to tell him that she felt the same.

_You're wrecking me for every other woman, Audrey Horne,_ he mentally chided her as he pulled away and met her eyes, dark brown orbs set in her vanilla skin. _How do you do it?_

She whispered her goodnight and settled back down; within minutes, her breathing had evened out and he could tell that she was fast asleep. And despite the deep desire to fall hard asleep next to her at that very moment, he was unable to keep his wandering mind still. Even with Audrey Horne curled up in his arms - or perhaps in spite of that - Cooper felt the familiar loneliness that he'd felt every night since arriving. His thoughts whirled; Leland, how Sarah had taken the news, how Harry had delivered it, Laura... .

When Audrey eventually rolled over to her other side and unclasped herself from his body, Cooper carefully and quietly swung his legs over the side of the bed and fumbled in the dark to get dressed. With a quick sweep of his hand through his hair, he finished buttoning his shirt and stood up, grabbing his tape recorder from off the nightstand as he did. Before he left, he planted a soft kiss on Audrey's forehead and whispered that he was going to get a cup of coffee. He hoped she heard him.

Down in the lobby, Cooper ordered a large cup of coffee, dressed up with a shot of some liqueur that came highly recommended from the bar staff, and found a seat next to the large, roaring fire place. He stared into the flames and considered his day, the ramifications of what he'd witnessed, the actions he'd taken. All the while, he held the tape recorder in the palm of his hand, fingering the 'Record' button, trying to decide whether to turn it on and talk or sit and think for a while longer.

He took his first sip of the coffee, feeling the slow burn of the liqueur in his throat, and as the hot, dark liquid made its way into his system, Cooper closed his eyes and pressed the button.

"Diane...," Cooper began, paused, and then, with a sigh and a smile, continued. "That's habitual I suppose. This is as personal an entry as I'm ever going to make. You're not going to hear it. But I hope you don't mind if I talk to you anyway. Makes this whole process feel a little less crazy. I am at this very moment sitting in the lobby of the Great Northern Hotel, Twin Peaks, drinking a cup of excellent coffee very late in the evening, trying to piece together the series of events that led to me leaving Audrey Horne, asleep in my bed, less than twenty minutes ago."

He paused, looking around the lobby to see if anyone was around who might hear. Satisfied that he was alone, he continued, in a softer voice.

"I believe I may have gotten my wish... one of them... from the night I was shot. I made love tonight—three times, in fact - to a beautiful woman for whom I have genuine affection," Cooper leaned back in his chair and took another sip from his coffee mug. "Audrey is remarkable. It occurred to me this evening that I want to be there to see her life unfold. I can't help but wonder if I'm being selfish, or that I'm wrong somehow. But she's gotten under my skin... ."

A group of businessmen exited the elevator, talking and carousing loudly in a language Cooper guessed was Slavic in origin. He took the tape recorder away from his mouth and waited until they were out of earshot before continuing.

"Leland Palmer is dead. I may have let his death affect me too much, and perhaps that is why I allowed this evening to happen, between Audrey and me. But it's strange, too... ever since reading Laura's diary, I've felt an overwhelming and irrational urge to protect _her_. Laura. I wish I could tell her that it would be okay, that we'd end the terror she lived through since she was a young girl. But since I can't, I wonder if the desire I've felt to protect Audrey is in fact misplaced from my desire to protect Laura. And I wonder if it's because I'm drawn to women—" he shook his head, "Correction: _people_ who 'need' saving."

Cooper furrowed his eyebrows and sighed. "I'm confusing myself. Audrey and Laura are not the same. Laura was wild, uncontrollable. She was living two very different lives. Audrey... Audrey isn't so puzzling. She wears a mask to hide her pain, as so many of us do. But she carries herself with such ease, poise and grace. They are only alike inasmuch as they are both women. Laura needed saving. Audrey... ."

He shook his head and watched the flames dance again for a long moment. "Maybe Audrey is saving me... ."


	11. Morning After the Night Before

Cooper showered early and quietly, trying his best not to wake Audrey, still sleeping soundly under the covers. In the period between him getting up and returning from the shower, she had positioned herself firmly in the centre of the bed, somewhat diagonally; he noticed with no small measure of satisfaction that she was curled around the pillow he'd slept on. Something about the scene filled him with contentment; he'd envisioned a similar scene of domestic bliss so many times before, but never before had the image in his head fit so perfectly with reality as it happened to do right then. He tightened his tie and carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. She murmured and rolled over to face him.

"Is it morning already?" she asked.

Cooper _ssh-ed_ her and ran his finger along the back of her hand. "Go back to sleep," he whispered.

She opened her eyes and he watched as they focused on his face, and as a look of realization dawned and her cheeks coloured crimson. She smiled and hunkered down beneath the blankets.

"Good morning," he offered.

"Hi... ."

"I'm sorry for waking you."

"It's okay, " she smiled. "I thought I was dreaming for a moment... ."

Holding her gaze, her eyes wearing a morning elegance he hadn't quite expected, he thought she'd never looked so beautiful. "Audrey..."

"I know," she whispered. "You have to go to work."

He ached and closed his eyes on the vision in front of him. "Tonight, Audrey. I want to take you out tonight."

"Out? On a date?"

"Yes."

"In Twin Peaks?" she asked. "But everyone would know... ."

"Audrey, at this point, I am fighting the urge to take out a full page ad in the local paper declaring that last night was... ."

She giggled and hid her face in her hands, "Agent—I mean..._Dale_... ."

He leaned forward and kissed her, cutting her off mid-sentence. She giggled in the back of her throat.

"Call me old-fashioned," he said as he pulled away, "but I don't normally go to bed with a woman after just one date. I'd like to do this right. To do right by you. By this."

"You don't mind being seen in public with me?"

He smiled and held her hand. "It would be an _honour_ to be seen in public with you."

She smiled and averted her eyes. "Well then..."

"I'll pick you up at seven," he said, kissing her on the forehead and pausing before getting up to kiss her again, full and deep. When he finally got to his feet and walked to the dresser, he deposited the second of his two room keys on the corner, making sure she saw where he left it. She grinned at him and he made his way to the door.

"Oh, Audrey?" he added, coming back from the door and peeking around the wall slightly to capture her attention. "Wear comfortable shoes."

"Why?" she asked dreamily.

"Just...I'll see you at seven," he said. Then he turned around and stepped into the hallway.

* * *

COOPER: Diane, it's 11:20 am. I'm at the Twin Peaks Sheriff's Department going over the notes and information from yesterday's incident involving the late Leland Palmer; Sheriff Truman will be joining me shortly. (_Pause_) Diane, something Harry said yesterday has been going through my mind for the last few hours. If BOB was living inside Leland, and Leland is dead, where is BOB now? Did we release him into the world? Has he been vanquished? (_Pause_) These are questions I don't rightly know or expect the answers to. But I fear those answers.

* * *

COOPER: Lunchtime. Tried something different today—egg salad on rye, side of beef barley soup, three cups of coffee and a slice of strawberry rhubarb pie down at the Double R. Sometimes I think Norma is following pie recipes written out by the Big Guy himself. I have yet to try a pie that I didn't like. (_Pause_)Correction: _love_. (_A sigh_)It's times like these I wish I knew my way around a pie plate... and I don't mean with a fork, Diane. (_Pause_) Deputy Hawk and I are waiting for Sheriff Truman at the Palmer residence. We need to collect a statement, if we can, from Mrs. Palmer about the night Madeleine Ferguson was killed.

* * *

COOPER: Diane, it's nearly half past two. We have been with Sarah Palmer almost all afternoon. We now have every reason to believe that Leland was drugging her for some time to cover his tracks, and that she was under the influence of this drug the night he killed Madeleine. (_Pause_) She is inconsolable, Diane. She has lost her daughter, her niece, and her husband in the span of a few weeks. It's a terrible burden, and if it weren't for Doctor Hayward's sedatives, I doubt she would be able to handle it. (_Pause_) Something strange happened to me this afternoon as well, and I feel it is worth mentioning. Benjamin Horne arrived to give his condolences as we were leaving. To say he regarded us coldly would be an understatement. But in particular, when he looked at me, I felt as though...well, it felt like I was on the receiving end of an admonishment from my father. If he blames me for his brief imprisonment, he is labouring under false pretenses, as I am certain I was the only person who came to believe even slightly in his innocence. Regardless, as he passed, we said our greetings, and he asked to speak with me this afternoon; I am on my way back to the station to see him now. I cannot imagine what his reasons for this meeting are, but I'll fill you in on the details as they become available.


	12. Motivations and Intentions

"Good afternoon, Sheriff Truman. Good afternoon, Agent Cooper. Sheriff Truman, there's a call for you on line one. I think it's Dougie Milford? I'm not really sure because the voice is really muddled...kind of echo-y. Like it's coming from a big room. It sounds like he's on a payphone. Maybe the public phone at the Great Northern. That's where the wedding is, so that's why I thought it might be Dougie Milford and—"

"Thanks Lucy," Truman said, gently, as he went to his office to get the phone.

Cooper watched as the Sheriff rounded the corner towards his office, and then turned his attention back to Lucy, who seemed intent on relaying some important piece of information to him next. He groaned inwardly.

"Agent Cooper, Benjamin Horne is waiting for you in the conference room."

Relieved to have been spared the almost inevitable hour-long dissertation on the circumstances of Ben's visit, Cooper smiled and nodded his thanks before stepping off towards the conference room.

"Oh, Agent Cooper!" Lucy shouted.

Cooper sighed and turned around to face her. "Yes, Lucy?"

"Should I make some fresh coffee?"

"That would be most appreciated."

"Should I bring it in to you?"

"Yes, Lucy, that'll do."

"For Mr. Horne as well?"

"For Mr. Horne as well, yes."

"With doughnuts?"

"Lucy, whatever you think will be fine."

She nodded and folded her hands in front of her. "Agent Cooper?"

He chuckled under his breath and turned to face her once again. "Yes Lucy?"

"You look...handsome today."

Cooper felt warmth in his cheeks and knew he was blushing the moment he cast his eyes down at his polished shoes, like a sheepish schoolboy. Still, he managed a genuine smile when he looked back at her as he replied: "Thank you, Lucy."

He would have said more, but Lucy had already marched back around to her desk before he had a chance to return the compliment. The whole exchange prompted an inappreciable smile to touch his lips as he turned the handle on the conference room door and stepped across the threshold.

"Mr. Horne," Cooper said. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting."

He leaned back in his chair. "Don't think of it."

"How was your visit with Mrs. Palmer?"

"Agent Cooper," Ben cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes. "Let's cut to the chase."

Cooper paused briefly, shrugged his shoulders. "Okay."

"I harbour no hard feelings over my treatment at the hands of this department and your investigation. I understand you were only doing your job—a job we, as taxpayers, pay you to do. I understand why I was under suspicion and, unfortunately enough, why I was arrested, interrogated, and jailed," he sniffed back haughtily. "And even though I am being forced to rebuild my reputation in this town, I understand that even the...best minds in law enforcement make mistakes."

Cooper was surprised. He tried to sift through the mouthful the town's self-proclaimed patriarch had spit out, finding it difficult to determine whether it was a true sentiment or a back-handed insult. For his money, Ben's voice was rounded out less with sincerity and more like the child being forced by his parents to apologize for a school yard infraction he may never have been inclined to say much about otherwise. Still, Cooper had to grant him a small concession for the fact that he was there, in the flesh, and looked him in the eye as he spoke; a lesser man would never have made the trip.

"That's very much appreciated," Cooper offered. "Thank you."

Ben paused, still nodding somewhat. "The second reason I'm here is to talk about Audrey."

At the sound of her name, Cooper's heart nearly thudded out of his rib cage; he noticed with dismay that his palms were sweating. "Audrey?"

"Yes," Ben smiled. "I wanted to thank you for supervising her recovery over these past few days."

"It was no trouble," Cooper replied. "No trouble at all."

Ben nodded. Cooper moved to sit down, hoping it would put Ben at ease enough that he would sit down too. But before that could happen, Lucy brought in a tray of coffee and doughnuts, which she quickly set down on the table in front of him. She smiled sheepishly as the mugs clinked and a splash of coffee landed on the laminate and one of the donuts fell off the plate, but before she could apologize and start cleaning up, Cooper had grabbed a handful of napkins and was already on the job.

"Thank you, Lucy."

"Sorry Agent Cooper," she said softly.

"Don't worry, Lucy." He smiled at her, and she smiled back before leaving the room.

As Cooper mopped up the coffee and moved to throw out the used napkins, Ben nodded at him. "You're certainly well-liked in this town, Agent Cooper."

Cooper set his mouth and nodded. "It's not always like this," he said, desperate to inject some levity to the conversation. "Usually the Bureau is met with cynicism, resistance, and a fairly good dose of hostility wherever we team up with local law enforcement. It comes with the territory...along with the badge, the gun, and the standard issue collection of Bureau neckties and dress socks."

Ben _hmm'd_ as he sat down across from Cooper. "How is Audrey, at any rate?"

Cooper gulped. If it hadn't been so hard for him to hide his own feelings, he might have tried dissecting the hint of emotion playing at the edges of Ben's words. Paternal affection was not a suit that fit Ben easily. Instead, Cooper concentrated on pouring a cup of coffee for himself. "She's much better: physically, emotionally... ."

"When do you suppose she'll be ready to return home?"

He furrowed his brow, looking up at Ben to offer him coffee while he was still pouring, which the other man accepted with a swift and subtle downturn of his head and eyes. "Doctor Hayward gave her a clean bill of health not twenty four hours ago," Cooper remarked. It wasn't wholly true—the good doctor hadn't been to see Audrey since the first night he'd examined her—but he felt a kind of obligation not unlike a doctor/patient confidentiality rear up inside him in response to Ben's interrogation. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

Ben took his mug from Cooper and stared into its depths. "But it's not that simple, is it?" Ben said, half-sneering.

"Audrey has never been under orders to remain at the hotel, if that's what you mean, Mr. Horne," Cooper replied, taking a pull from his own coffee mug. "She has always been free to return whenever she wanted."

Ben nodded. "Are you suggesting that...she hasn't _wanted _to return?"

Cooper knew that no matter what he said, Ben Horne would find a way to turn it around against him. _I won't give him the satisfaction_, Cooper thought, already crafting his next sentence. "I'm suggesting that Audrey is a very mature, very capable young woman and for us to stand here in this room and discuss her intentions or her motives or, indeed, to decide her fate is irresponsible and disrespectful. To her." _Try twisting that._

"Intentions? Motivations?" Ben Horne set his mug down on the tabletop with a wry smile. "Agent Cooper, thank you for leading into my third point of discussion: with regard to _intentions_ and _motivations_, what exactly are your designs on my daughter?"

Cooper nearly spit the mouthful of coffee across the room. "Designs?"

"I'm sure a man as _upstanding _and _righteous _as yourself wouldn't try anything nefarious with a young woman barely old enough to vote, still months away from her high school graduation," Ben steepled his fingers and rested his chin on the middle fingertips. "Yet I feel the compulsion to ask, seeing as how my previous warning about staying away from Audrey seems to have gone unheeded."

Cooper stared, awestruck. "I went outside of my jurisdiction to bring Audrey back safely fro One Eyed Jack's. At your insistence, I might remind you."

"I'm aware. And I've thanked you. Yet I wonder how it's come to pass that Audrey is spending so much time around you. She sleeps ten feet away from you at night. You eat breakfast together in my hotel restaurant," Ben shrugged his shoulders. "It appears, to the casual observer, that—"

Cooper felt blood pulsing behind his eyes and in his temples. He wasn't one to enjoy interrupting people, but he couldn't help himself. "Mr. Horne, it is obvious that you don't like me very much. I don't know what I can do to change that or what I can say, other than...well, I might be the only friend your daughter has in this entire town, and Audrey has needed a friend for a long time. So if being there for her when she needed someone is the reason you can't bring yourself to say more than one kind word to me, then I'll resign myself to being disliked by you for as long as I'm here."

Ben sat, the same smug smile still plastered across his lips, for a long moment. Finally, he pushed his chair out and stood up to his full height. "It's been enlightening, Agent Cooper. Thank you for the coffee."

And without another word, he strode across the room and showed himself out.

Cooper felt the adrenaline and fury recede to that same deep cul-de-sac in which his pain had taken up residence. As he calmed down, he analyzed what had just happened. Had Ben left angrier than he'd arrived? What did he mean by "enlightening?" What was the purpose?

Worst of all, Cooper had the sinking suspicion that it was all a game, a test, devised by Ben Horne himself. He pored over the last five minutes, trying desperately to recall everything that had been said, analyzing it to see if he'd passed.


	13. Heavy Truths

The knock at the door snapped him out of his trance. He glanced up to find Sheriff Truman standing at the entrance. Cooper cleared his throat. "Harry."

"Hiya Coop." He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I see Ben didn't bring his shotgun."

Cooper nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Was that what you came in here to talk to me about?"

Harry grinned, seeing past Cooper's slightly short reply. "Can't get anything past you," he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "That was Sarah Palmer on the horn. She wanted to know when she could finalize Leland's...arrangements."

"What did you tell her?"

Another sigh. "That we could release his body to the funeral home first thing tomorrow morning. Sounds like she's thinking of going ahead for Tuesday. Late morning."

Cooper nodded again, solemnly.

"She asked about you, specifically."

"Me?"

"She wanted to know if you'd still be in town then, if you'd be able to attend," Truman said. "She says she feels a...special connection...to you."

Cooper hadn't thought about it much, but Sarah was entirely right. With each hour Leland Palmer's body cooled in the county morgue, Cooper's time in Twin Peaks moved closer to its conclusion. There was nothing further keeping him in town—_From the Bureau's standpoint, anyway_, he reminded himself. It would be business as usual as far as anyone else was concerned; another assignment, another city, another set of faces...

"Is everything all right?" Truman asked.

"What? Oh..." he looked down at the ground and lifted his toes, rocking back on his heels, "Harry, somehow I never imagined myself leaving Twin Peaks at all."

Truman smiled. "It suits you, you know."

"I'm going to miss it..." he trailed off, staring again at the same knot in the tabletop which had captivated his attention before, his mind wandering, wrapped up and tangled in the bedsheets with Audrey Horne...

"I told her I didn't know what your plans were."

"Who?"

"Mrs Palmer. I told her I didn't know whether you'd be there or not."

"I'll be there," Cooper said. "I'll call her myself to let her know."

Truman simply nodded and started off for the door. Cooper grabbed his jacket from off the back of the chair and followed him. "Harry, feel free to say no to this, but I was wondering if it'd be all right with you if I—"

"I'm surprised you didn't take today off, Coop," Harry smiled knowingly as he paused in the doorway. "The way you looked last night, I almost insisted that you did."

Cooper smiled, not exactly surprised that the Sheriff had read his mind so easily, and came to join the Sheriff between the jambs. "Thanks Harry."

"Need a lift back to the hotel?" Truman asked.

Cooper mulled over it for a moment. "No, I think I'm going to walk..."

"To the Great Northern?" Truman asked.

"I'd like to see more of the nature around here before I go," Cooper smiled sideways at the Sheriff.

Truman knit his brows together, "Suit yourself."

"Will do, Harry," Cooper nodded, giving Lucy a quick goodbye on his way out, where he began the long, contemplative trek through the Douglas firs and Lodgepole pine that lined the highway up the mountain towards the Great Northern.

* * *

COOPER: (_Scratching, rustling sound of shoes striking gravel_) Diane, it's four pm. I've been on a very invigorating walk, from the Sheriff's Department in town to the hotel. I'm guessing that I'm ten minutes away from being within sight of the Great Northern. Diane, this is truly some of the most inspiring country I've ever been in. Hauntingly beautiful. In the last hour, I've seen no less than four moose deep in the trees on the side of the highway, two bald eagles, and a bear. (_Pause_) I'm struck by the sense of loss I feel regarding this community and the fact that I'll be leaving soon, now that my task here is finished. Leland Palmer's funeral seems likely to be on Tuesday, and after that, nothing official will be keeping me here. (_Pause_) Of course, there are suddenly _plenty_ of _unofficial _reasons for me to stay... Around the time I saw the second bald eagle, I began toying with the idea of taking some time off. You know how Gordon's been on my case about the amount of time I've got saved up. Perhaps I could spend a few more weeks here. I just don't feel like saying goodbye just yet. (_Pause; in the background, the sound of a bird call echoing in the distance; the shoes stop; long pause_) Diane, make that _three_ bald eagles.

* * *

_That evening_

"...And the guy with the chihuahua says 'You mean they gave me a _chihuahua?!_'"

Audrey giggled. "That's a good one."

Cooper pressed his palm into the small of Audrey's back, flexing his fingertips against the fabric of her knit sweater as he guided her around the Twin Peaks Golf and Country Club, cutting shallow swaths of the dance floor beneath their feet while a four-piece band rumbled on across the room. Crowded around them were an assortment of Twin Peaks' citizens in their golden years, shuffling across the parquet flooring as they did every Sunday night, neatly sandwiched between Glenn Miller Night on Saturday and Polka Night on Monday on the club's weekly schedule.

But it worked just fine for his purposes. Audrey looked the part, her hair curled and pinned _just so_, a pink sweater atop a black skirt that could have been pulled from the wardrobe department of a Golden Age film noir; the spitting image of Paulette Goddard, or Hedy Lamarr. She was catching the eye of every man in the room regardless of age, from the teenaged kid taking tee time reservations at the front desk to a man celebrating his sixtieth wedding anniversary, orbiting them with his oblivious wife beaming in his arms.

But Audrey was dancing with him.

At the realization, Cooper felt the air leave his lungs as his heart lurched in his chest. He was the luckiest man in the room. Of that he had no doubt.

And yet, despite the joy that lightened his feet, he was still weighted by the sadness that had been his discussion with Gordon Cole that afternoon. The general consensus reached was that, yes, Cooper could have some well-earned time off; but it amounted to a few days, tacked on to the end of the week following Leland's funeral. There were new cases, and unfortunately there was no time to dilly-dally. He was to be back at his desk by Monday morning.

He had a week left with the beguiling creature whose delicate perfume filled his nostrils, who laughed like a wood sprite, who occasionally stepped on his toes while they sashayed around the room. How was he ever going to leave?

"I'm glad you told me to wear comfortable shoes," she lilted. "I could dance all night."

Her voice pulled him back from the depth of his mind but even as the noises of the room flowed down his auditory nerve, he had to read her lips to hear her words. "That's good to hear," Cooper replied.

She continued to smile, squeezing her tiny hand into his; he noticed with a flutter in his stomach that the abrasions on her wrists were still visible, an ugly reminder of her recent turmoil, and clutched her a little bit closer on account.

"Do you like to dance?" she asked.

Cooper considered for a moment before nodding. "When my partner is willing. And able, of course."

She blinked her eyes slowly and looked away before returning her gaze to his. "Am I able?"

As she said it, the toe of her saddle shoe struck the toe of his dress shoe, and they looked down between them before she began to giggle hysterically. It was contagious; Cooper couldn't help but laugh. "I'd tell you not to quit your day job if you had one," he joked. "But it's nothing a little practice can't fix."

"Oh I'll practice," she said, her voice thick and earnest. "With you, I hope."

There it was again: the lump in Cooper's throat that had threatened to occlude his airway every time he thought about Audrey and the fact that they had such a short amount of time left with her before his departure.

He hadn't wanted to bring it up then; eventually, yes, but not tonight, not like this. Dodging the subject was going to be harder than he thought if she continued to put her idealistic vision of their future together in front of him like this.

"You're a fine dancer, Miss Horne."

Audrey chided him with her eyes. "I thought we were on a first-name basis, considering…" she trailed off, biting her lip. "I mean, I can start calling you Agent Cooper again, if you'd prefer."

The thought of never hearing her say his name again left his mouth dry; he shook his head. "No, Audrey," he replied. "I like things just the way they are."

"Me too," she said, and as she stepped once again on his toe, her head found purchase against his shoulder and she sighed.

He thought he might die.

"I know you're going to have to go soon," Audrey said.

"Hm?" Cooper asked.

"That you're going to have to leave Twin Peaks."

That time he heard her, loud and clear, and the glass filament of her words seemed poised to choke him there on the dance floor, surrounded by a sea of silver-haired country club members. He paused for a long moment before returning her comment with his own. "Oh," was all he could muster.

She pivoted on the ball of her foot and toe-kicked Cooper's ankle once again, causing her to stifle a sad laugh. "So that's it?" she asked.

"Audrey, I—"

She took a breath, cutting him off. "I think it will be okay," she said. There was no hint of anger, sadness, or resentment in her voice. Not that he expected there to be. Not from her. "I mean, I don't want to get ahead of myself or anything—it's not like…I mean we've only been _together_…_you_ know…it was just the one time…"

"Audrey," Cooper saved her. "We don't have to talk about this now."

"But I think it's the grownup thing to do," she nodded, her movements sharp and decisive, even as her eyes cast upwards and her voice cracked as it left her lips. "Isn't it?"

There were moments—and he could think of dozens that had happened within the last twenty four hours—when Audrey's maturity left him dumbstruck; then there were moments like this, where her endearing naïveté burst through the layers she wore to keep it hidden, when he was reminded that she was still such a girl…

Still, he smiled. "Yes, I suppose you're right," he said, taking a breath and taking the plunge. "I will have to leave Twin Peaks soon. A week from today, as a matter of fact."

"Well," Audrey chewed her lip as they continued to sway, and for a long moment it was the last word spoken into the space between their bodies. As the last echoed note of her voice had dropped from the air and burrowed within his cochlear nucleus and copied itself to his hippocampus for later retrieval, she spoke again. "At least we have a week, right?"

"That's true." Her optimism was contagious.

"And after that, who knows?" she shrugged. "I only have one semester left of school. And I've been thinking maybe I should try and get into college, you know…Bryn Mawr or something? Near Philadelphia?"

"Is that so?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Why would you want to pack up and move across the country to go to college, Audrey?" It was a leading question, one he hoped he knew the answer to; still, he wanted to hear it from her.

She scoffed, shooting him a smile as she called his bluff. "For such a sterling member of the Federal Bureau of Investigations, sometimes I wonder if your detective skills need a little work," she jabbed. "I would have thought it was obvious."

He lifted an eyebrow and nodded knowingly. "You know, I'm not always _in _Philadelphia," he said. "I could get sent pretty much anywhere."

She was silent for a while, a look of consternation on her face. "Couldn't I come with you, wherever you go?" she asked finally.

Cooper tried to hide the freezing grip of terror that seized his muscles at the thought, but Audrey felt it, sensed it; how could she not? Held in his arms like that, they were practically wearing the same clothes.

"I don't think that would be a good idea," he said, his voice dropped low, intimated into the space between them.

Audrey stiffened. "Okay," she offered.

"I don't mean to say I wouldn't want…" he trailed off, looking for better words. "It's just…it's dangerous, and if you were to get hurt—" he stopped himself just shy of saying '_again'_ because then he might have glanced at the marks on her wrist, or his mind might have strayed to the sight of faded, yellowish bruises on her alabaster thighs, or those painting the paleness of her back along her spine, between her shoulder blades where his hand rested now…

"Dale?" she asked.

"Yes?"

"If you weren't in the FBI…I mean, if you were just a man visiting Twin Peaks, and we'd met, and we were having this conversation…"

He didn't miss a beat. "If that were the case, I'd just stay."

"You would?"

His voice rumbled reverently in his chest. "Yes, Audrey. I would."

She sighed again and returned her head to his shoulder, a little closer to the centre of her chest this time. As she rested their entwined hands next to her lips, she kissed his fingertips, one at a time, and Cooper shivered in anticipation.

"Who knows?" she said. "Maybe you won't have to leave after all. Maybe _something _will keep you here for a little while longer."

"Never say never," Cooper croaked.

"I'll try."

He resisted the urge to kiss her because he knew where that would lead and they might as well have been a million miles from the nearest horizontal surface belonging to either one of them, and anything less than that was too sordid to contemplate. So he resisted, and in the resisting he lost track of the beat in the song, which was ending softly and faraway from them both; Audrey's manic giggles as Cooper stepped on her shoe was enough to draw him back, and he smiled, forcing the other thoughts from his mind.

"Maybe I'm the problem," he offered, pointing at his shoes. "Two left feet."

Audrey shrugged. "That could never be true."

He cupped a hand along her jaw and ran his thumb along the softness of her cheek. "Can I take you home, Audrey Horne?"

She blinked slowly and smiled up at him. "I thought you'd never ask."


	14. Witching Hour

_**A/N: This is the coda to Part I of what I'm now calling the "Moonlight Trilogy." Part II is in the capable hands of a fellow writer/beta reader as I write this and as soon as I get notes and feedback, I'll edit and start posting it! I hope you've enjoyed the tale thus far and continue to follow along!**_

* * *

COOPER: (_Soft, hushed voice_) Diane, it's three-thirty in the morning, Monday…March thirteenth. (_Pause_) This is another one of those tapes that you'll never hear, and that's probably a good thing, since I seem to be operating at half steam and most of this will likely be more akin to rambling nonsense than anything else. (_Yawn_) I've been up half the night. Scheming and dreaming, as it were. Under a spell, Diane, and not just from this place. (_Pause_) I should have known that Audrey Horne was capable of such magic. I honestly can't explain how incapable I am of anticipating her moves, her words…(_Clears throat_) I'm sure by now you've received my transfer orders; you know in a week's time I'll be back at my desk and this will be a closed chapter. (_Pause_) How odd, Diane, to consider myself as a character in other people's stories. How many individuals have I met in the last two and a half weeks alone for whom my presence fleshes out a bit part somewhere in the periphery of the main action of their lives? It's a curious thought. (_Pause_) I wonder what part I will eventually play in Audrey's story. (_Sigh_) She has given me much to think about. (_Pause_) It's been four years since Caroline died, and for the first time since then I feel drawn to something from which I can't seem to get away. When I'm with Audrey, nothing else seems to matter. Not the Bureau. Certainly not my career within it. (_Reverently_) There were times tonight when I was holding her in my arms and I honestly felt as though I could walk away from it all, buy a house up here, get married, become a father. And I haven't felt that since Caroline. (_Pause_) It is something that both delights and petrifies me. Of course I'm happy to feel it again, to know that I'm capable of it, that intensity and passion that puts candy floss where your brain ought to be. But the costs are high. Too high. I don't know what I would do if…(_Long pause; rustling in background_) Diane, I'm afraid I've awoken Audrey so I'll sign off now. (_Pause; lightly_) I think we're going fishing today. It seems to be the most reasonable thing to do when you've stretched out the space between sunset and sunrise making love with someone remarkable, and you know you're going to be too tired come morning to be of much use for anything else…


End file.
